


Agents of Storybrooke

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Belle French is among the new class of SHIELD agents, along with Emma Swan, Mary Margaret Blanchard, and Ruby Lucas. Belle is paired with feared Agent Robert Gold, and the pair work in tandem with Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Emma Swan is partnered with Neal Cassidy, who's been out of the field for seven years after tensely parting ways. Sparks fly between agents as new alliances and relationships are formed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Oh jeez. I’ve really done it this time. Not only have I decided to start publishing my stuff here on AO3, but I’m writing my first AU fic. WHAT. Blame Meaghan (dinkleberg-senpai on tumblr and bambi1994 on here) for this idea. It started as a little prompt and then blew up into me wanting to write a full-length fic in about the span of two hours. Also: title credit goes to Meaghan’s friend, Ashley, who asked me to give her a shoutout haha. Thank you, Ashley!
> 
> So yeah, this’ll be mostly Rumbelle, with sides of Swanfire and Clintasha, and little bits of Snowing, Pepperony, and Frankenwolf.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in OUAT or the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I think that goes without saying. But now, without further ado, I present to you, Agents of Storybrooke!

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter One  
\--

 

If there was one thing Agent Belle French had learned in her first twenty minutes working for SHIELD, it was “don’t piss off Agent Gold.” And yet somehow, she had already succeeded in doing so.

Waltzing through a hallway of the Triskelion, SHIELD’s Washington DC headquarters, as Director Fury finished up their tour of the facilities, Belle took a corner too tightly and found her body plastered against another before it jumped back and howled.

She had spilled her chai tea all over the body’s white dress shirt.

Belle’s eyes raked up from the stain and up to the face of the owner of the shirt—a ruggedly handsome, solidly built agent in his mid-40s with a rage in his eyes she knew could belong to only one fabled agent—Agent Gold. She’d heard horror stories of the man’s temper among her fellow agents while in training, some fearing him so much as to drill in their heads one simple rule. _Don’t piss off Agent Gold._

Well, shit.

Belle couldn’t speak, could only gape wordlessly, absolutely humiliated, while Gold stared her down. She was going to die within the first day, and at the hands of her own coworkers no less. They probably thought she was fucking working for HYDRA now. _Shit, shit, shit…_

“Agent French…”

Director Fury’s voice snapped her out of her wildly racing thoughts. Belle’s head snapped back toward her boss.

“I suppose now’s a good of a time as any to introduce you to your new partner. Agent Belle French, meet Agent Robert Gold.”

_Bloody hell._

Gold scanned his eyes over Belle in appraisal and grumbled in a thick, Scottish brogue.

“I would hope that you don’t plan on making a habit of being clumsy, Miss French. Could really cause a problem in the field.”

Belle swallowed and gripped the now-sticky (and near empty) Starbucks cup in her hand.

“No sir, not at all,” she replied, barely audible.

He sighed and bit back, “Well, there’s no need to call me sir. You’re my partner now, and I see you as an equal. Agent Gold will suffice just fine for now.”

“For now?”

“If they keep you around long enough, you may be privileged enough to call me Robert.”

She quirked an eyebrow, a little put off by the comment, and suddenly the sticky cup in her hand was forgotten. If anyone would stand up to Gold, it would be Belle French.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” she answered, a little more venom to her voice than she meant to.

Gold just scoffed and turned to Fury, saying, “The Little French has some spunk. Quite a spitfire you’ve picked up, Sir.”

Fury just smirked and looked back to Belle.

“I think you two will complement each other quite nicely.”

And after one final stare down between Belle and Robert, Fury ushered the young agent along to finish the tour.

He watched her go, annoyed with how the tiny girl had fired back at him. No one did that. Not since his last partner. And that depth of relationship to call him out on his shit had to be earned.

He whirled around in the direction of the elevator and pressed 23, and greeted by a “ding” and the sliding open of the door, he stepped inside and headed up to pay Agent Nolan a visit, making a pit stop at his own office to put on a spare shirt he had laying around.

David Nolan was 32 and had been working with SHIELD for six years. He had been thrust into the business as an employee of Stark Industries and after six months was solicited by Nick Fury to become a part of SHIELD. Proficient in hand-to-hand combat and incredibly skilled with a gun, he had quickly become one of the golden boys of SHIELD, and his main post was currently working for Stark Industries as Head of Security. His fiancé, Mary Margaret Blanchard, would be joining him at Stark Industries as a liaison officer. Nolan was also one of Gold’s only close friends.

“Robert,” greeted his friend. “What can I do for you?”                                           

“Files on the new agents, please.”

Nolan cocked his head at that.

“And since when are you suddenly interested in the new agents?”

“Fury has seemed to find immense pleasure in deciding to assign me a partner,” he replied in a clipped tone.

David unlocked a desk drawer and began rifling through manila folders.

“And he assigned you one of Fury’s Angels, I see.”

_What the hell?_

“Fury’s Angels?”

David chuckled as he extracted the first file and laid it on the desktop.

“Yeah, that’s the nickname Stark, Potts, and I have given the four new agents. All rather…lively…women, not the least of which being Mary Margaret. All from Storybrooke, too.”

“Ah, your fiancé is among the newbies this year?”

David continued to pull files and just smiled.

“We’ll be working together at Stark Tower. So we’ll see how long it is before we want to kill each other. Here are your files, Gold.”

Robert took the four folders and tucked them under his arm, mumbling a “thank you” and heading for the door of Nolan’s office until he heard his friend call out once more.

“So who’d be pair you with?”

Gold stopped and turned.

“The French girl.”

David shot his friend a huge grin.

“She and M are friends, and I’ve met her a few times. She’s a feisty one.”

“Bloody girl spilled tea on me when Fury introduced her.”

His friend let out a snicker and replied, “Alright, well you have fun stalking the newbs. Have fun with French. She’s cute, Gold.”

Robert only rolled his eyes as he turned and headed back toward the elevator, heading up to floor 30 to his office to sift through the files. He would scan through the first few quickly before reading his new partner’s file more in depth.

He started with Mary Margaret’s file. She was 28, with a PhD in Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering from the University of Storybrooke in Maine, where she and Nolan had met as undergrads. She would be starting as a liaison officer between SHIELD and the Research and Development sector of Stark Industries. She was also trained in archery and kickboxing.

Next was Ruby Lucas, a 26 year old PhD in Biology from Storybrooke. The girl was ridiculously book smart, having blown through her undergrad in three years and receiving her PhD just mere months ago. Ruby had grown up raised by her grandmother and had worked at her diner, appropriately named Granny’s, since she was 16, and used it to pay her way through school with dreams of becoming an apprentice of Bruce Banner. Agent Lucas would start as an associate in his lab working on research that Banner and Doctor Victor Whale, a specialist in genetics, were working on.

Tossing the second file aside, he grabbed for the third one, becoming increasingly anxious to find out about Agent French. He began to scan over the next one quickly.

Agent Emma Swan…Age 25… Recommended by…

Gold’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes fixed on a name. _Recommended by: Neal Cassidy._

Neal Cassidy. Gold’s former partner. The last partner that he had until seven years ago when he went solo and began to work only with Agents Barton and Romanoff when necessary, while Cassidy moved to SHIELD’s consulting department. The partner that he thought about every single day and hadn’t heard from in years. Gold read on. Emma Swan was also a resident of Storybrooke, Maine, ( _Did SHIELD have a fucking agent farm there or something?_ ) and had been discovered a year ago by Cassidy when she had attempted to break into his apartment. Rather than have her apprehended, Gold surmised that the two must have bonded over similar histories of starting out as thieves, leading to Neal offering her a second chance.

Gold shook off the feeling of dread that came over him as he thought of his former partner—If Swan was around, then what if Cassidy started tailing her too? Once the best of friends, he wasn’t sure where they stood with each other now—hadn’t been for a long time. Robert just knew he still felt a pang of guilt every day ever since the botched London job seven years ago.

He sighed as a dull ache surged through his knee, as if the guilt needed a physical manifestation. He rubbed his hand over the scar and set the file aside, reaching for his new partner’s, and he began to piece together the little he already knew about the French girl and what the file had to offer.

Belle French was 26 years old, born in Melbourne, Australia, where she lived until she was 15, when her father, Moe French, had been recruited by SHIELD as an inventor and engineer, setting up shop in the sleepy little town of Storybrooke, Maine, where he and his cohorts were free to work under the supervision of Storybrooke mayor (and SHIELD Deputy Director) Regina Mills. Belle spent her adolescence in her father’s world, traveling to SHIELD headquarters all over the country and being dubbed “the little French” by the agents. With an IQ of 143 and growing up becoming skilled in the Australian martial art of Zen Do Kai—a mixture of boxing, judo, karate, and other disciplines—the little French had been groomed to be an agent of SHIELD for years. Moe French prided his daughter as a renaissance woman, and she held a Master of Arts degree in English Literature and Creative Writing from Storybrooke. Gold had never met Belle prior to their chai tea debacle about an hour prior, but the few times he had seen her at one of the bases with Moe, she had had her nose in a book or a pen in her hand.

Gold reached the last line of the file:

_Agent French will be partnered with Agent Robert Gold in the black-ops unit with Strike Team Delta (Agents Natasha Romanoff and Clinton Barton)._

He let out a sigh as he closed the folder and thought of the interaction with French once again. He sincerely hoped that her clumsiness today would not become a habit.

The last thing he needed was another Neal Cassidy situation.

* * *

Belle had settled into her Georgetown apartment with Ruby and Emma last week, and the three had since been preparing for their first days of training at SHIELD. The three women had set ten alarms between them, all ridiculously paranoid that they would oversleep (especially since it was a bad habit of Ruby’s). So at 5:00 AM, the first three alarms sounded through the apartment, a cacophony of “Black Widow” by Iggy Azalea (Belle’s alarm), “This is War” by 30 Seconds to Mars (Emma’s), and “Lonely Boy” by the Black Keys (Ruby’s).

They were ready and over to Triskelion by 6:45, and training would begin at 7. And despite already being so familiar with the facilities and the agents, Belle’s stomach was rolling. Because she had to face Agent Gold again, and she was about 90% sure he would kill her, regardless of how well-liked “the little French” was already.

“Agent French,” she heard a deep, Scottish voice come from behind and whirled around to find Agent Gold in the lobby.

“Agent Gold,” she responded, nodding. “I apologize again for spilling on you yesterday.”

“No matter, dearie. Just don’t let it happen again.”

Again, she nodded, her confidence slipping at his gruffness and the stares they were receiving from the other agents. Belle knew that Gold hadn’t had a partner in seven years, though she had not been privy to the details of why. Apparently their partnership now made for big news around the watercooler.

Whether she liked it or not (and she didn’t), she would never be able to lay low at SHIELD. There would always be a target on her back. Fury, Regina, her father, and now Gold, probably, expected something above what the other new agents had to offer. She had been trained for this position since she was a teenager, and the pressure and expectation were now higher than ever. She was more than capable, this she knew. But Belle was still only human, and nearly knocking her new partner over and spilling a latte on him the day before had certainly proven that.

“Agent French,” Gold barked at her, and she realized that she had zoned out.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, shaking her head. “I was a million miles away. What did you say?”

He just glared at her coldly.

“I said, we should head to Briefing Room B. That’s where your orientation will begin. Try to keep up, will you?”

He didn’t wait for a response and began walking in the direction of the briefing room.

She had been here fifteen minutes and it was already shaping up to be the longest day of Belle’s life.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regina is the Deputy Director of SHIELD, we meet Clint and Natasha for the first time, and tension between Gold and Belle begins to thicken.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Two  
\--

 

French, Blanchard, Lucas, and Swan were all seated in the briefing room, along with their partners. Gold scanned over the room quickly and found Swan seated next to Cassidy on the opposite side of the room.

_Fucking hell_.

Averting his eyes to a spot on the floor, Gold found a chair next to Belle and sat down as Deputy Director Mills rose to begin speaking.

"Good morning, agents. My name is Regina Mills, and I serve as the mayor of the town of Storybrooke, Maine, home of our most rapidly growing base, as well as Deputy Director of SHIELD. You four agents have been chosen as our newest assets based on your accomplishments and accolades in your respective fields and recommendations from some of our top employees. I don't need to stand up here and tell you how good you are or how you're the cream of the crop and all that pandering fluff and nonsense. You know you're qualified, and that's why you're here, so I will encourage you now to not expect any coddling or praise unless you perform above and beyond what is expected of you."

Belle seemed to be a focal point for Regina's speech, she noticed, the dark-haired woman’s eyes falling on her regularly as she spoke. Whether that was intentional or not was messing with her head and making her steadily more nervous as Mills continued.

"Your first six months in SHIELD will consist of intense training, with introductory proficiency training in all three divisions of our SHIELD Academy—Operations, Science and Technology, and Communications.  You will receive specialized training in your respective areas for the final three months. Your mentors and partners will be with you every step of the way—they have taken off from the majority of their regular duties for the next six months in order to properly train you, so please be sure to make it worth their while. Any questions?"

The four new agents remained stock-still, eyes fixed on the Deputy Director, mouths closed, almost afraid to speak.

Regina went on.

"We understand these first several days will be overwhelming. As I said, do not expect coddling or someone to provide a shoulder to cry on. And if you must show such a display of emotion, I suggest you do it away from your superiors."

Gold could feel French tensing next to him more and more with each passing moment, and he found himself torn between a feeling of delight in the fear Regina was invoking in the new agents and genuinely feeling sorry for her. The first few days were always the hardest.

"Now, if you'll please join in me in welcoming back to the briefing room Agent Neal Cassidy. Agent Cassidy will serve as the partner of Agent Emma Swan. Welcome back to the field, Neal.”

Neal nodded in acknowledgement as the rest of the agents politely clapped, and it was Belle's turn to feel her partner tensing up next to her.  

There had to be a story there, she thought.

Regina continued on with an itinerary for the first week and then handed over the podium to Fury for closing remarks. Belle rose from her seat with a shaky breath and was quickly met by a roadblock in the form of two agents in front of her. She looked up to meet their eyes and saw the famed Black Widow and Hawkeye standing before her.

_And now is not the time to be starstruck, Belle._

"Agent French," began Barton. "Welcome to Strike Team Delta. I'm Agent Clint Barton."

"And I'm Agent Natasha Romanoff," supplied the small redhead. "Don't worry too much about what Regina said. She's mostly just blowing smoke to make any weakling drop out now."

"Not that we're going to hold you while you cry or anything," Barton cut in with a smile.

"Pleasure to meet the both of you," Belle replied, her arm reaching out for handshakes from both of them.

Agent Romanoff smiled and said, "You as well, Miss French. We see a lot of potential in you."

Belle nodded in thanks.

"Looking forward to training and working with you both, Agents."

The two nodded back.

"No need to be formal. Clint and Natasha will suffice just fine," supplied Agent Barton.

Belle smiled, proud of herself for keeping her composure and not saying anything stupid to the two agents (unlike her first encounter with Gold), and for the first time that morning, she actually almost felt like she belonged there.

She whirled around to find Gold, only to see him walking toward her with a stoic expression on his face. He passed by Agent Cassidy and Emma with cold, hard eyes. Cassidy and Gold barely nodded at each other in acknowledgement.

"Gold," the younger agent greeted.

"Cassidy," Gold replied.

And that was it. That was the extent of their interaction, and Belle's partner swiftly covered the rest of the distance to her, while Emma and Belle exchanged glances over the tense encounter between the two men.

Whatever had happened seven years ago, Belle could observe for herself that there was a long and complicated tale behind it.

* * *

 

The ten alarms set on the first day of training had dwindled down to two for Ruby and one each for Belle and Emma by week three.

Belle rolled out of bed as her alarm went off (this morning it was a Maroon 5 song) as her muscles protested. As much as she had trained pre-SHIELD, she had not been prepared for the 8-mile morning runs and the past week's intense strength and conditioning course led by Agent Nolan. This week would find the agents focusing on sparring techniques. Belle groaned at the thought of having to go hand-to-hand against Gold. He was still as aloof as ever and outside of any necessary interaction while at work, he kept his distance. And the thought of trying to impress a senior agent through fighting was not what she wanted to think about so early on a Monday morning.

Emma and Ruby came down shortly after Belle and after a quick breakfast, the group piled into Emma’s old yellow Bug and drove the 26 minutes down to Great Falls Park to meet for the morning run.

Every morning, they were greeted with the awkward tension between Cassidy and Gold— the uneasiness that came for all the new agents who knew there was a rift there but didn't know why. Only knew that the two had been partners before whatever had happened seven years ago. Barton and Romanoff seemed to be able to ignore it pretty well, but it never failed to bother Belle that her partner was so unwilling to speak to Cassidy. Or anyone else, for that matter.

The group took off around the park as the sun began to rise. The views were spectacular, and Belle never found herself tiring of surging through the downhills of the trails or climbing up the steep and rocky portions as the group wove in and around the riverbanks of the Potomac River.  But on this particular morning, Belle struggled to ignore the more intense feeling of annoyance at Gold than usual boiling up inside her. Whatever had happened between Gold and his former partner seven years ago had caused such a problem that Cassidy had been transferred, and apparently the two didn't speak much since then. But whatever it was, she couldn't understand why either of them couldn't just grow a pair and get over it.

The second mile she thought about what else in Gold's past had possibly made him so aloof. Bad childhood? Marital problems? Did he have a wife? Was he divorced or widowed?

The third mile she thought about the rumors that Gold had been somewhat of a womanizer in his earlier days in SHIELD, unwilling to settle down or commit. So that was a probable no to the marriage question.

The fourth mile Belle fixed her eyes on Gold's form directly in front of her, eyes scanning down to the knee brace he wore. For a 43 year old man, he was incredibly fit aside from his knee which clearly gave him trouble. She had noticed the scar tissue peeking out from his athletic shorts on one of the first days. And Belle couldn't help but wonder of somehow that scar (or perhaps another scar he bore, as surely he had more) had anything to do with what had happened with Agent Cassidy.

The fifth mile found Belle still fixed on watching Gold's rhythmic steps in front of her. She could certainly understand the womanizing talk—he certainly was not unattractive. _(Wait, what?)_

The sixth mile found her trying to get him out of her head altogether.

And failing.

Belle burst in front of Gold and fought to stay a reasonable length in front of him for the final two miles. Not being able to have him in her line of vision would surely stop him as a focal point for her wandering mind.

(It didn't, and she wasn't really sure why.)

Gold pulled up alongside Belle as she slowed to a walk, and she couldn't help but notice the wince of pain as he reached over to rub at his knee for a moment. He took a few steadying breaths as pricks of pain flared up, and he bent his right leg, stretching out the joint and working the muscles back into submission.

He was startled out of the methodical post-run routine when French turned to him abruptly and spoke.

“Does it bother you often?”

He released his foot from its hold in his hand and let his leg plant back onto the ground, slightly aggravated.

“Only during workouts. Goes away after a little stretching.”

French didn't seem satisfied with that response.

“May I ask how you got it?”

He whipped his head around to face her and knit his eyebrows, and Belle gathered that she must have stepped on a nerve.

“No,” he barked before turning on his heel and striding off in the opposite direction.

* * *

 

It wasn’t that Gold didn’t like Agent French. She was just so damn…curious. She asked questions all the time and always had something to add to the conversation. And normally that would bother him, but the problem was that her additions to discussions between agents were actually stimulating, and much more eloquent and in-depth than Agent Lucas’s go-to, “I agree with Doctor Whale.”

If he had to put a word on it, he’d call himself intrigued by Agent French. And he was intrigued to see how that intellect would translate into a sparring session.

(He was also very intrigued by how her outfit was showing off her body in all the right places.)

He had made his way to the basement of Triskelion and into the gym to find Agent French, along with Romanoff and Barton, Swan and Cassidy, Lucas, Whale, and Banner, and Mills and Fury.

But he couldn’t help but be fixed on French. Normally clad in a Dri-fit t-shirt and loose, mesh, athletic shorts, her sparring outfit consisted of black, spandex leggings (had she painted those on?) and a tight, grey sleeveless shirt.

_Fuck._ This was why he hated fighting with women.

Lucas and Banner were finishing up a round when Belle sidled up alongside him.

“Glad you made it,” she greeted dryly. (She had decided that morning that if her partner was going to be cold and sarcastic to her, she could throw it right back at him.)

Gold again found himself intrigued by her.

“The whole spitfire act is quite unbecoming, dearie.”

Belle scoffed and said, “Not an act, _dearie._ I’m just done letting you play the bad-boy intimidator act.”

At that he turned to face her, mouth slightly hanging open and eyes narrowing as he peered down at her. 

“ _Not an act,_ ” he mimicked.

And then the familiar rolling in Belle’s stomach came back. But she held her ground.

“French. Gold. You’re next.”

The staring match was broken as Mills called out to the two of them to step onto the mat.

Belle grabbed her gloves from the counter behind them and stepped forward. From the side of the makeshift boxing ring, Clint and Natasha watched with interest as the other half of their team placed padded helmets on their heads and prepared to fight.

“The rules are simple,” Regina explained. “This is just free-form fighting. Use whatever techniques you are comfortable with. No holds barred. This is meant to be challenging. Fury or I will only step in if absolutely necessary. We trust you two can handle yourselves well enough.”

“Five bucks on French,” Natasha mumbled to her partner.

Before Clint could respond, Gold had lunged forward with a right cross, which swiped Belle in the arm as she raised her gloves to deflect it. She came back with a kick to his chest, but Gold caught her leg before she could reach him and pulled her to the ground.

“I see your five on French and raise you a hundred on Gold,” Clint replied, giving her a cocky grin.

Natasha just glared and rolled her eyes. _Come on, French._

Belle collapsed onto the ground in a heap and grunted, pressing her back and shoulders into the ground and launching her legs up to stand upright, moving swiftly and hitting Gold across the face with a left hook. A chorus of “oooooh”s came from the crowd as Gold shook off the blow.

“Easy, French,” Fury called.

But she ignored him and threw a left uppercut at his stomach, which Gold countered with a block and a throw of his own right hand, knocking Belle in the chin. Belle was thrown off-balance by the punch, and Gold took the opportunity to sweep his foot against her ankles to bring her down again. Belle again fell to the ground and rolled onto her back, staring up at Gold, who just stood over with a cocky smirk.

He leaned down close to her, just daring her to make a move, and mumbled, “Had enough yet?”

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint watched on the side, sensing the tension rising between the two.

“This is going to get really ugly really quickly if they don’t dial it back,” Natasha mumbled.

Clint just smiled.

“Ahh, let ‘em play, Tasha. You’re just mad because you’re about to be out $100.”

But just as the words came out of Clint’s mouth, Belle reached up with her legs and clenched her knees against either side of Gold’s neck.

“Not nearly enough,” she gritted out, twisting her hips so he landed about five feet from her on the ground.

Gold grunted as his back hit the mat, and Belle rose to her feet.

“Well, shit. Little French has moves,” Clint remarked. 

It was Natasha’s turn to flash a cocky smile.

Gold rose again and threw his stronger leg around in a smooth, swift, semicircular motion, aiming a hard roundhouse kick toward Belle, which she took the brunt of with her shoulder. Again, she was knocked off balance, and Gold went in for the kill, winding up to get a left uppercut in on Belle’s torso, and she fell to the ground with the impact, a gasp emanating from the onlooking agents. Pain spread through her right side as her head fell back against the mat, and she winced, and Gold realized he had probably hit her much too hard for a sparring match.

“Wait for it…” Clint mumbled.

A whistle sounded, and Fury’s voice boomed over the whispers and Mary Margaret’s cry of, “Belle, you okay?”

“That’s enough,” the Director barked. “Gold, take it easier next time. French, up off the mat.”

Belle struggled to her feet as she panted for air, and her eyes locked on Gold, who almost looked genuinely sorry.

He really hadn’t meant to hit her so hard. He had just gotten caught up in the moment…

His next thought was cut off as a glove connected with his cheek, his vision blurred, and pain radiated through his jaw, more gasps coming from the crowd. He rubbed at his face gingerly and opened his eyes to see Agent French turned away, walking off the mat and into the locker room, everyone else in the room silent, and even Clint and Natasha’s eyebrows raised.

Gold ripped off his gloves and threw them to the ground, his hand reaching up once more to his cheek.

_Damn._

This certainly was no Neal Cassidy situation.

This was a whole different animal.

A very… intriguing… animal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. Bookworm has teeth! Thank you all SOO much for the love for the first chapter, and I really hope you enjoyed this next one. Next chapter will feature the Fury's Angels (plus Natasha!) bonding I had promised this chapter, as well as more background on the Gold/Neal dealio. Yay! 
> 
> Leave comments and such below!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fury's Angels bond, we get more background information on the some characters, and we start to find out just what happened between Neal and Gold.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Three  
\--

 

Gold stepped into Agent Nolan’s office the next morning with a purple bruise coloring his jaw.

“Quite the shiner, you’ve got there, Bobby,” his friend greeted.

“Well, aren’t you just charming.”

David chuckled.

“What can I do you for today, good sir?”

Gold ran a hand through his hair and peered out the window, eyes scanning from the Washington Monument and all around and through the city. After a few moments, he turned once again and spoke.

“I’m curious as to whether or not you are privy to what made Agent Cassidy decide to come back to the field.”

David’s eyes softened.

“Bobby—“

“Do you or do you not know?”

David sighed and waited a beat before meeting Gold’s eyes again and replying, “You know, you really should talk to him.”

Gold grit his teeth and shook his head, saying, “And what the hell would that accomplish?”

“He’s not mad at you, you know. He never really was. You pushed him away, and that’s what upset him. Because you’d rather not deal with what happened. It’s selfish.”

David regretted the words as soon as they came out. But then he snapped, “I pushed him away because I couldn’t stand to think of the position I put him in that day!”

But even still, Gold knew David wouldn’t back down. His friend was seeing right through the tough guy act. Just like Neal had. Just like French was now starting to do.

“You cannot continue to carry that guilt with you, Gold! It’s been seven years! Something happens with French, what? You just gonna ask for an assignment change?”

“Don’t bring her into this, David. That’s irrelevant. I’ve known her a month.”

But David just scoffed and threw back, “It is too relevant. You like having her around, Gold.”

He shifted uncomfortably. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his new partner. It had been unsettling enough to broach the subject of Neal with his friend, and sure, the little French was attractive and very intelligent, but being pretty and smart didn’t mean he himself had an attraction to her. Or _liked_ having her around.

Right?

“I-I don’t dislike her, David. I think she’ll do a lot for SHIELD as an agent, but this is completely not the point.”

“Well, then what is your point, Gold? Because you’re going to have to drop the cold and brooding lone wolf act if you’re going to actually form a partnership with French and if you’re ever going to get yourself to be on speaking terms with Neal.”

“Who said that’s what I wanted?”

“Why else would you be here asking about him?” David retorted.

Gold opened his mouth to speak, but David cut him off and continued.

“Look, Neal isn’t mad about what happened in London. And no, I wasn’t around seven years ago, but I know you both well enough from working with you guys. Yeah, some shitty stuff happened after that, and he went through some rough patches, but he’s better now. He’s worked through a lot. And so he’s coming back. Thought Swan would make a good partner. He doesn’t blame you. You’ve always blamed yourself for what happened. I don’t think he wants that. If anything, I really think he wants you to reach out. I think in order for him to keep healing, he needs you around. So he’s here because he’s better now, and he wanted to come back. And he has a lot of faith in Agent Swan. Really carries a torch for her, I think.”

Gold let a fond smile pull at his lips.

“That Cassidy. Ever the romantic.”

“Cassidy-nova, I heard you guys always called him,” David remarked, laughing.

And Gold let his small smile turn into a full-on grin.

Maybe he needed to pay Agent Cassidy a visit.

* * *

Dim lights illuminated the darkness as Belle, Mary Margaret, Emma, Ruby, and Natasha perched upon barstools around a table, drinks in hand. Natasha had invited the new agents all out for drinks that night at a local bar called Bagelfire (Belle thought the name sounded like some weird typo, but it was oddly catchy and endearing).

It was nice, Belle thought, as they laughed and told stories about the first month of the Academy, Natasha even regaling a story or two from old missions. It was nice to have Natasha to around to provide mentorship to the four of them—she had honestly expected someone who was ex-KGB and one of SHIELD’s deadliest assassins to be much less…pleasant.

“So French,” Natasha’s voice startled her out of her reverie. “Hell of a fight you gave Gold the other day.”

With this subject, all the women suddenly perked up and threw out comments simultaneously.

“When I saw you go down that last time, I was so worried! I thought he’d broken your ribs,” this came from Mary Margaret.

“Asshole deserved it,” Emma piped up.

And then Ruby, “Bet you didn’t think you’d have an agent between your legs this soon, huh, Bells?”

Natasha nearly spit out her vodka, and Belle just pursed her lips, shook her head, and tried desperately not to laugh.

“Ruby, that’s gross!” Emma cried.

“Oh, hush, Emma. I’m only joking. And look at Belle! She’s blushing!”

The four other women whipped toward Belle to see the brunette’s face burning red.

Ruby went on. “Oh my goodness, you have the hots for Gold, don’t you?”

That broke Belle’s silence very quickly.

“What? No! Of course not. I just… He’s my partner. I find him interesting. And I just… I don’t really want to talk about this, guys. I got mad because he hit me a little too hard. So I hit him right back. He frustrates me, and he’s challenging, but he’s alright.”

“So there’s no ridiculous unresolved sexual tension just oozing underneath the surface, begging and pleading to be unleashed?”

“Ruby, what the fuck kind of erotica have you been reading lately?” This came from Emma, who seemed utterly horrified at Ruby’s dramatic intonation.

Mary Margaret changed the subject.

“Well, enough about Belle and the mysterious Agent Gold. I think there’s some sparks between Emma and Cassidy.”

Emma just laughed shyly, while Natasha pressed, “Oh, I can tell by that look that there’s a story there.”

“He’s one of my best friends. You guys know that I grew up in the foster system and was passed around until I ended up in Storybrooke when I was 15, and I met you all. But when I moved to New York last year, money was really tight, and I picked up some old habits from when I was younger. I tried to steal an expensive vase from Neal’s apartment. He caught me and should have had me arrested, or hell, had I known who he was then, he probably could have shot me. But he made a different call. We got coffee, and he told me about SHIELD. I spent all of last year training to find myself inevitably brought back together with three of my best friends. I have a kickass job and a cool guy who seems to like me a lot. So life’s pretty good right now for Emma Swan.”

Squeals erupted from Ruby and Mary Margaret, while Natasha and Belle just rolled their eyes at the two overzealous women and smiled happily at Emma.

“So you’re saying there _is_ something there between you and Neal?” Ruby inquired.

“I mean, I think so. We’ve hung out a few times—for a drink or dinner. I don’t know. He hasn’t like, tried to kiss me or anything.”

“And would you want him to?”

Emma clenched her jaw. This whole vulnerability thing wasn’t really what she had in mind for tonight, but hey, these were her closest friends. If she had to trust someone with her love life, she supposed it should be them.

“I… wouldn’t be opposed if that situation arose.”

More squealing from Mary Margaret and Ruby, and Emma just exchanged glances with Belle.

It wasn’t that Belle wasn’t excited for Emma. She absolutely was. And as much as she was a dreamer and an adventurer who loved the classic fairy tales at heart, she tempered her emotions, indulged them through her reading. Belle hadn’t been in many serious relationships in her 26 years of life, always much too focused on training or finishing her degree or on the books she read in her spare time. So she just didn’t see the need to get so excited about it, as much as she almost wished she would. It was easy for Ruby and Mary Margaret to get excited about love interests—Ruby had had her fair share of boyfriends, and Mary Margaret was planning a wedding with David. They had tasted love and knew how wonderful it could be. And Belle… She really didn’t. Emma, on the other hand, was just a little more guarded in her emotions and preferred to play the tough, “walls are up” game. But she and Belle were alike in one fashion for certain.

They really did have a deep-seated desire for true love.

The conversation reached a lull once Ruby stopped grilling Emma about her “almost-boyfriend,” and Belle turned to Natasha and brought up what had been on her mind since she knew she’d have a chance to sit down and talk with the agent.

“So, speaking of Neal, what exactly happened with him and Gold?”

Natasha downed the last of her drink and turned to Belle, the other three women now locked in conversation about Deputy Director Mills’ pantsuits.

“Honestly? I don’t know that much more than everyone else. It was seven years ago when they were on a job in London. Neal and Gold had been partners for only less than a year, but they were incredibly close. They ended up unexpectedly running into the mark in a bar they knew he frequented one night, and the target had been harder to locate than they expected. Gold was getting impatient, and so he really pushed for them to take the chance to get him right then and there—“

“Which I’m guessing wasn’t exactly the plan?”

“No. And improvisation is fine, but they were just sloppy about it. Neal’s gun wasn’t even loaded, but it was a routine enough job, and Gold was confident enough that he’d have time to slip Neal his backup. Gold pushed, and they went after him. They ended up chasing him down in an alley. The target took a couple shots at Neal, who had run straight at him without thinking. That’s the thing about Neal—he thought he was invincible. So the mark got him while he was unarmed. The first one hit Neal in the side. Lost a ton of blood. Gold took the second bullet for him. Hit him in the knee… After that, it really shook Neal up. He had some complications in recovering from the wound, and then the post-traumatic stress set in. Gold always blamed himself. Still does. But that’s all I really know.”

* * *

_The air was hazy with cigarette smoke as Neal zeroed in on the striped pool ball directly down the pool stick in gliding over his hand. A quick strike and into the left corner pocket it fell, Gold cursing in response._

_“I’ve got you now, Bobby,” he called to his partner with a smirk._

_Neal squared up his next shot, aiming the 9 ball at the right side pocket. He pulled his arm back to shoot when Gold caught his arm._

_“What the hell, Gold?”_

_His partner was bristling, an empty, intense stare directed toward the bar, where a dark figure was shuffling toward the door._

_“Jones.”_

_Neal jerked his arm out of Gold’s grasp and turned back to the table._

_“Gonna take a lot more than that BS trick to get me out of this zone.”_

_But his partner only grabbed his arm more firmly and forced him to whirl around, and sure enough. There was their target, Killian Jones._

_“Oh.”_

_Killian Jones was ex-DEA, having gone rogue five years ago, taking three agents with him to absorb themselves into a rapidly growing drug ring called the Jolly Rogers, which they had at first been hired to bring down. He was dressed in all black, a large trench coat covering him with a weapon no doubt hidden somewhere underneath. How the guy had escaped SHIELD’s clutches as long as he had remained a mystery, but now it was Gold and Cassidy’s job to bring him in. Easy enough. Jones was volatile and stealthy but certainly not one of the most dangerous criminals they had faced. It should have been easy enough, once they found him, which both agents knew would be the hardest part. Fury had said it was almost like Jones used “a fucking magic bean or some damn time portal” to move around because he had always been adept at eluding other agents._

_But they had him now._

_And then Jones met Neal’s eyes. And the man in black bolted._

_Neal hesitated, but Gold was already running on instinct. Whether or not it was smart was irrelevant. He saw his chance. He was going to take it._

_And so Gold took off out the door, Neal hot on his heels._

_“Gold!” Neal panted out as Gold kept his eyes trained on the racing shadow in front of them. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”_

_“Got your gun, Cassidy?”_

_“I—yeah. I don’t know if it’s loaded.”_

_Neal struggled to catch his breath as Gold tore towards Jones. The senior agent was in ridiculous shape and trying to hold a conversation to strategize was futile at this point—not only because it was getting harder to talk and breathe and run at the same time, but it was clear that Gold had made up his mind. The mission ended tonight. Jones had been difficult enough to find._

_“I have a backup.”_

_And so they ran._

_Jones rounded a corner down an alleyway between two buildings, lunging at a chain-link fence to climb over. Gold pulled up and fired a warning shot while Neal charged straight at the fence, ripping his hands from the fence and tackling him to the ground, while Jones wrestled a hand out of Neal’s grasp to reach for a gun._

_“Cassidy, the hell are you doing?”_

_Gold was standing fifteen feet away, gun poised at Jones and ready to fire._

_Gold aimed in on Jones’s hand, which was reaching around blindly in the space around his torso, grappling at the concrete for his gun, which had come loose from the holster when Neal had taken him down._

_A bullet erupted from Gold’s gun and into Jones’s hand, blood and pain and screaming ripping from his body._

_But Jones gritted his teeth through the throbbing in his palm and reached with his bloodied hand to grasp at Neal’s neck, and Neal plucked Killian’s hand from around his neck, rising off of the man and lifting him with him to press him against the fence. Neal reached down to his belt to pull out a gun—_

_Fuck._

_All he had was the unloaded gun._

_“Cassidy, I can’t get a bloody shot off with you right there,” Gold called._

_So Neal pulled the gun out and sloppily whipped it at Killian’s face, the metal connecting with his cheek and dropping him to the ground. And then Neal began to retreat, but Jones fell to the ground right next to his own gun._

_Jones cocked the pistol at his moving target, and the next few moments seemed to happen in stop-motion for Neal. A thundering sound. The concrete rising up to meet him. Pain—pain everywhere—where his palms scuffed the ground and where his forearms braced his fall and in his side. And there was an angry, deep red blossoming up his rib cage through his shirt. Panic. More thunder. Yelling._

_And then the world went dark._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got to say that you guys are the GREATEST. I really love you all. Thank you for existing. 
> 
> So, we'll have a few more flashbacks in later chapters. (I told Meg (theladyofthedarkcastle)-- it's like FTL flashbacks but... well, SHIELD flashbacks. Same idea. Different acronyms. :) So yes! There was a major lack of Rumbelle in this chapter, but fear not, next chapter will provide lots of them bonding. Perhaps a chipped cup will make an appearance! 
> 
> Leave comments and kudos and such below. :) 
> 
> OH. One more note-- blame bambi1994 for the Bagelfire reference. She mentioned it as an idea and I couldn't resist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's basically a Gold and Belle bonding-fest with sides of introspection on both their ends.

 

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Four

\--

 

Gold was pleasantly surprised—all the new agents had made it into the final month of their introductory training, which would take place in the SHIELD Academy of Science and Technology. This would be Ruby’s specialty once each agent entered their own rigorous training in phase two of the academy. Holding a PhD was required to enter into Sci-Tech, and Ruby had completed hers in Biology just two months prior to beginning the program at SHIELD. She was ridiculously book smart, but her discussion skills could sometimes leave a bit to be desired, often just nodding and offering bare minimum opinions when prompted.

And then there was French, who, as much he hated to admit, Gold really enjoyed having around. If there was one thing he had learned from their sparring weeks ago, it was that she packed a punch. She didn’t back down. She was the total package.

Which was great for SHIELD. (And nothing else.) For God’s sake, he was almost old enough to be her father. And as much as SHIELD had begun to turn into the Mr. and Mrs. Smith Club (Clint and Natasha, Mary Margaret and David, eventually Neal and Emma most likely), he didn’t have any interest in complicating a strictly professional relationship with sex.

Because that’s all it would be. He liked having French around. But there was no romantic attraction. It was strictly and purely animalistic lust—any man with working baser instincts would want her.

But he could suppress that.

He didn’t need that.

Didn’t need to mess up another partnership.

Gold snapped back to reality at the sound of the clipped tone of heels. Dr. Anne Weaver, Director of the Academy of Sci-Tech, was striding toward the front of a conference room-turned-lecture hall, reaching the podium to introduce Dr. Banner, who would be lecturing and leading a discussion today.

Gold zoned out again as Banner began, discussing some of the latest cutting edge technologies in biological science.

And then he heard the petite Australian next to him speak up.

Agent French began (for there seemed no better term for him to describe it) kicking ass, rattling out questions and critically thought out points about whatever it was that Banner was talking about (he respected Banner a lot, but Gold was stupidly blind to the science side of SHIELD sometimes). All he knew was she was using very impressive words and sounding confident and much more well-read than any other agent in the Academy of Operations that he had ever seen.

Ruby, Emma, Mary Margaret, and Neal all whipped their heads around as she tore out five-syllable words like it was second nature, casually conversing with Banner now about his work in anti-electron collisions.

Seeing her counterparts staring at her, Belle slunk down in her seat just the slightest bit, that it was only noticeable to Gold because he was seated right beside her, before she cleared her throat and with that confidence she so often exuded, shrugged and said, “I read it in a book once.”

Banner watched her with raised eyebrows, clearly impressed and stunned by her knowledge.

“Are you sure you haven’t considered Sci-Tech, Agent French?”

Belle just laughed.

“Well, Dr. Banner, flattered as I am, I only hold an M.A. in English and Creative Writing. I hardly believe that’s qualified. I’ve just been reading up on scientific journals in preparation for this portion of the Academy. And my father has several books laying around about these sorts of things back home.”

If the rest of the women in Belle’s class hadn’t known her for years prior to the Academy, Gold knew that she would be the one they’d talk about behind her back for being a “show-off” or the favorite, being the daughter of an employee of SHIELD. And if he didn’t know better, he certainly would agree.

Banner must have posed another question to her, as she continued speaking. Gold glanced over at Regina, and even she seemed amused and dare he say, proud, of the agent that SHIELD had been investing in for years starting to prove her worth.

Banner responded to Belle’s comments before moving on to the rest of his lecture, everyone else remaining fairly silent for the rest of the time, unwilling to let themselves be showed up by French and choosing instead to stay quiet.

Banner dismissed the class, and Belle gathered her things and began to walk out of the conference room when Agent Cassidy stopped her. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling almost…intimidated, moreso than she did around Gold. Was he judging her? Did he feel replaced as Gold’s partner, as she was the first since him?

Belle realized her fears were unfounded as Neal flashed her a sweet smile.

“Agent French, right?” he asked as way of greeting.

Belle extended her hand for him to shake.

“Yes, that’s me. Belle French. Nice to meet you…Neal, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Just wanted to properly introduce myself and say hello.”

Belle smiled and offered, “Well, I’ve heard a lot about you from my friend, Miss Swan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Neal.”

She caught the blush that briefly rose on his cheeks.

“I can’t imagine. All good things?”

Belle appreciated his friendliness and understood how he had become so close with Gold. His charming personality could wear anyone down it seemed.

“Classified,” she teased.

He chuckled in response, averting his eyes and seeing Gold’s head craned around his shoulder watching them as he exited the room.

“So, you’re Gold’s new partner?”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard about him or about our partnership, but… just know this. He really is a good guy, and once you earn his trust, he’s incredibly loyal.”

Belle cocked an eyebrow, taken aback a bit by the comment.

“Oh, no… I mean, he’s fine. A little challenging but fine.”

But one trait that she and Neal shared, Belle could see, was their perception. And Neal just threw an “oh really” look back at her before continuing.

“Agent French, I worked with the guy for awhile. We haven’t spoken much for…well, a long time, but I know how he is. He’s got the tough guy, walls up attitude. But I think you’re wearing him down. I’m pretty good at reading him.”

Belle pursed her lips, turning to watch Gold exit the room.

“You two were pretty close then, I take it?”

With a grimace, Neal responded quietly.

“Yeah. He was like a father figure kind of, ya know? But…,” he shrugged and faltered, and Belle couldn’t help but reach out clap a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how much you know, but stuff happened, and I had to move departments for mental health reasons.”

“I don’t know much, but now that you’re back in the field, maybe you two could talk again? Catch up?”

“We’ll see,” he replied, shrugging again, and then Emma came up alongside him. “Well, I better get going. This lovely lady and I are headed out to lunch.”

Emma grinned as Neal bowed dramatically and held out his arm for her to take.

“And hey, don’t give up on him. He’s a good partner,” Neal called over his shoulder as he and Emma left the room.

“Well, thank you, but I don’t see myself earning his trust anytime soon.”

“You’ll get there. I think you’re growing on him.”

Belle watched them go and brought her lower lip between her teeth, and she couldn’t help but feel almost jealous of the trust that Neal and Emma clearly had between each other—enough that they even were finding themselves romantically compatible.

She certainly didn’t need that with Gold.

But if she was going to be going to battle with him, she’d at least like to be his friend. As much as she enjoyed showing him up and verbally sparring with him (actually fighting with him was still up for debate), she did want a partner with whom she could at least be vulnerable with, create a strong bond like he had with Neal.

But nothing more than that.

No matter what Ruby said about sexual tension and having him between her legs.

* * *

Gold sipped a cup of tea as he stared out his window to the city below, different landmarks and monuments peppered around rows of houses and the crowded streets.

It had been about two months since Neal had come back, and he still couldn’t bring himself to speak with him privately. More recently, if the agents were in a large group during Academy lectures, he would stand in the same group and converse as long as Clint, Natasha, or David were around. They were amicable enough when greeting each other, and the awkward tension surrounding the morning runs at the park had gradually dissolved.

Still, he held Neal at arm’s length. He wasn’t good at partnerships, so what was really the point? Gold knew that Neal had looked up to him and respected him, and the guilt of his injuries had rested so heavily on Gold for so long. And after wrestling it for years, he was finding that that guilt was unfounded. It was self-preservation. It had started as a brief feeling and had grown into an excuse to remove himself from hurting Neal or being hurt by him. It was selfish. And by not being there for Neal from the start, that was the true act of abandonment, not the actual events of the shootout with Jones.

Gold didn’t want to blame himself. He didn’t need to. David was right, much as he hated to admit it. He needed to let go and reach out.

He just had to stop being a coward and do it.

Still staring blankly out the window, Gold grabbed for his tea again as he heard a knock on the door.

_Who the hell was coming to see him on a Friday afternoon?_

“Come in,” he sighed.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal Agent French.

“Hi,” she greeted, smiling weakly.

“Agent French.”

He could not, for the life of him, figure her out. French was extremely confident, smart as a whip and a biting wit to match. But every now and then, he would get flashes of a more tender side of her, the part that he imagined was less _Agent French_ and more just _Belle._ He had seen it when she interacted with Neal the other day, and Gold had seen it a few times directed at himself—asking about his leg, generally trying to get to know him. It was…unusual. Generally, people left him alone. No one really wanted to know him.

 “What brings you here?”

She kept smiling and answered, “Honestly? I just…”

“Yes?”

“I thought I’d come see what you were up to. It’s just… everyone’s been busy this week, and if you’re the only one around right now, can’t I at least talk to you?”

His mouth twisted into a frown before he shot back, “Ah, so I’m the lucky recipient of your pity?”

“I mean—Bloody hell, Gold, that’s not what I meant. I’m here because I want to be, not because you were the last resort.”

And then, for perhaps the first time since she had met him, Belle heard him laugh.

 “I understand, French. No one wants to hang around the monster.”

She shook her head in response. “You’re not a monster. You hit like one, but you’re not a monster.”

In an even more pleasantly surprising turn of events, both to Agent French and to himself, his lips quirked upward into a smile that just barely reached his eyes.

And he realized that he really didn’t want her to leave quite yet.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Yeah, do you have Earl Grey?”

He reached into his desk to grab a tea bag from the box, reaching for a white cup with a blue branching pattern on it, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge and pouring it in and placing the cup in the microwave. Definitely not his preferred method of making tea, but he made do with what he had in his rather limited office space.

He turned toward his partner, who had taken a seat across from him and was gazing around his rather bare office.

“So, French, you had a life before this? Friends, family, school…What brought you here?”

Belle’s heart leapt just a little bit. He was making an effort to get to know her. And that was good. They both knew that Fury and Mills couldn’t send them out onto missions together with absolutely no chemistry between them. It was one thing to be two outstanding agents separately, but another to make a great team.

It was a start.

“You know, everyone thinks I was just born into it. That Dad forced me into the family business. Which is true in a sense. I grew up in Melbourne with him working for the government, and then he started consulting with SHIELD. Meanwhile, having grown up around military brats and some fairly high-achieving kids, I wanted to excel myself. And I found that it came easily. So I started training in martial arts because I wanted to get faster and stronger. I grew up around a lot of boys and some really athletic girls. I read all the time, and I just loved learning. And then we moved to Storybrooke, and I think Dad just assumed I wanted to become an agent with SHIELD. And I kept training because I enjoyed it and I kept learning and reading because I loved it… But when he asked if I wanted to start the Academy when I was 18, I said no. I told him that no one decides my fate but me—if I were to become an agent, it would be my choice. So I went to university to pursue English, got my Masters, loved every minute of it…”

“So why come back to SHIELD?”

“Fury and Mills started recruiting me hard—saying they saw so much potential in me, and it would be a waste not to be an agent. And that was all complimentary and such, but still, I stayed at UMS. But I kept training because I missed it. And… And, it’s stupid, but I always dreamed of heroics. I always wanted to be brave. Staying in Storybrooke and writing and being a librarian, yes, it would make me happy, but what if this would make me happier? The daring thing would be to reach out into the unknown and at least try the Academy—not because of what anyone else said but because I wanted to. I figured, do the brave thing, and bravery would follow. So I finished my Masters’ and enrolled in the Academy.”

“And is it everything you hoped for?”

She smiled.

“Well, I did want to see the world. That part hasn’t worked out yet. But we only have to wait a few more months on that.”

“It is one of the perks of the job.”

Her tea had been brewing in the hot water for a minute or two now, and he held out the cup for her to grab. Belle grasped at the cup but some of the tea had spilled over and the ceramic handle slips through her grasp before her other hand can come up to support it. The tea sloshed out of the cup, and onto the floor, and the cup went with it.

_Fuck._ That was twice now that she had spilled tea in front of him.

“Bloody hell, French,” he grumbled as she reached down to grab the cup, which now had a sliver of its rim missing.

“I’m so sorry… It’s chipped.”

He sighed, shaking his head and almost (almost) smiling at her.

“For someone who’s so skilled in combat, you’re awfully clumsy, Agent French.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Gold…”

“Well, it’s just a cup.”

She smiled back at him appreciatively, rising to hand the cup back to him. He set it aside and clamored around in his desk for more cups.

“Right. You can still use it.”

“Yes… Would you like another?”

“Yes, thank you.”

They fell into silence, and he was reaching for another cup when she decided to take a risk.

“Well, I’ve given you some of my backstory. Want to tell me how you ended up as the dark, brooding loner of SHIELD?”

She could barely see his smirk as he turned around to fill up the cup, and he replied, “I am not brooding.”

“No, you’re not,” she shot back. “You try really hard to seem menacing. But you’re not. At least, you don’t scare me.”

Intriguing. The word he had used so often to describe her came rolling back into his mind. She was the most intriguing combination of genuine and caring, biting and witty, and intelligent and so very perceptive.

“Well, you’d be one of the few to see the man behind the façade.”

He’d never admit it aloud, but she really did have a beautiful smile. Bright, pearly teeth and a look of joy on her face that made those blue eyes sparkle.

And he hated it. He hated it so much that she was so damn intriguing.

The trill of a cell phone ring tone interrupted his thoughts, and he saw Belle reaching into her bag to grab her phone, staring at the illuminated screen as it continued to buzz and ring before coming to a stop before she could answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s my father. He’s coming to town from Storybrooke this evening. I should probably go now. I need to call him back. You don’t have to bother making more tea. But thank you. I’ll, um, well, you can tell me your story another time, maybe?”

He nodded.

“Perhaps another time, Agent French.”

She had risen to leave and made it halfway to the door when she whirled around once more.

“Belle.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s Belle. I know you prefer me to just call you Gold, but you can call me Belle.”

Intriguing and perceptive. And all too kind for him.

“Look, if we’re going to be taking out dangerous criminals together, I would like to establish some trust between us, okay? So, if you want to, call me Belle.”

He was finally coming to terms with what had happened with Neal. Perhaps it was time to start to let his new partner in as well?

But as quick as that question posed itself in his mind, another louder, more familiar voice came calling.

_Arm’s length. Arm’s length. Arm’s length._

So Gold nodded, turned his back, and said, “Have a good weekend, Agent French.”

Belle tried hard to ignore the feeling of disappointment sitting deep in her chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Zelena would say, "Oops." 
> 
> Will Gold continue to push her away? Will we see some Moe/Belle interaction? I honestly don't know. But I can tell you that we will see some Neal/Gold interaction, some Avengers/Fury's Angels shenanigans, and Clintasha cuteness in chapter five. 
> 
> The fact that people are reading this and commenting and kudos-ing (because that is definitely a word) makes my heart happy. You guys are great.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gold bucks up and talks to Neal, other relationships are explored a little bit, and more fun happens at Bagelfire. Oh. And Gold and Belle think a lot about feelings and stuff.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Five

\--

 

_Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._

The little aphorism that Belle—Agent French—had stated the other day in his office had been replaying in his mind almost constantly. It was almost annoyingly applicable to his life, and as if she were some voice of reason come to speak truth into his life, that was why he now stood at the door of Neal’s office, raising his hand to knock and lowering it again several times before finally he rapped his knuckles against the door.

He knocked a few times and could faintly hear voices coming from inside the office, so he turned the knob and opened it, looking up to see a surprised Emma and Neal jumping away from each other.

Gold’s mouth gaped open and closed, and Neal just stared back with a similar expression that gradually changed to a sheepish grin.

“I am so sorry for…,” Gold turned to Emma at this. “Interrupting.”

Neal began offering all sorts of apologies.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I heard you knock. I should have come sooner. My bad. I can—I’ll see you later, Emma? Did you want to talk, Rob—Agent Gold? I have some time right now.”

It was clear that his former partner was nervous about this exchange as well as he stumbled around bumping his desk and chair.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Emma offered. “Um, good to see you, Agent Gold. I’ll see you later, Neal.”

With that, Emma grabbed her coat, waved, and left the office quickly.

Gold tried to hide his smirk as Neal awkwardly scratched his head and avoided eye contact.

“I see you and Agent Swan are getting on well.”

Neal’s cheeks flamed red and he stumbled over a response.

“Yeah, she’s great. I really like her.”

“Well, good. For your coming back into the field, you deserve to have a wonderful partner.”

Neal sighed, reaching his hand out to stop Gold from going on.

“Bobby, don’t do that…”

“Neal, please. I came to apologize.”

Seven years. Seven years of awkwardly skirting around and suppressing such deep wounds, and Neal was beginning to wonder if he was dreaming this. He wasn’t angry at Gold. He’d long gotten over the hurt, resigned to the fact that they would not be reconciling anytime soon, if at all. And yet, after seven years, here it was. That moment that Neal had stopped letting himself hope would happen.

And Neal really didn’t know what to say.

“Bobby, you have nothing to apologize for. It was seven years ago. It’s okay. I made the call to run at Jones like an idiot. I was younger and dumber back then, and I’ve finally been cleared. I’m fine.”

It was accurate enough. He was better—so much better now—than where he had been even just last year at this time.

“Neal, I’m not here to apologize for that.”

_Oh._

“Well, then out with it, Bobby.”

Gold’s eyes stayed glued to the ground as he shoved his hands into his pockets. _Do the brave thing._

“I watched you nearly die that night. I had to watch my partner and one of my best and only friends bleeding out in an alley because I forced him into going after a criminal. You weren’t as prepared as you should have been and honestly, I probably wasn’t either.”

“But we both just wanted it over with. I get it. It’s understandable. You know that I don’t blame you for that call.”

And he really didn’t. But Neal knew that there was one other major thing that Gold likely wanted to make amends for. And that was the one he hadn’t been expecting. Because it meant admitting more than a flawed plan or bad logic. It meant that Gold had to admit things a lot deeper.

“No, I do know that, Neal. That’s not the problem. I’ve realized over the years that the problem was how I handled the aftermath.”

Neal gulped, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction wash over him as Gold continued to spoke. And Neal could see it in his friend’s eyes that he was truly remorseful. That he was trying to be a better man, a better friend.

And Neal really wanted to believe him. 

“When you didn’t clear the psych evaluation, when you started having anxiety attacks and flashbacks and I’d see you in the gym pounding the hell out of the bag with bloodshot eyes because you weren’t getting any sleep, I panicked. And I felt guilty. And instead of doing something about it, I let that guilt consume me, and I withdrew. I didn’t know how to handle it, Neal, and instead of choosing the right thing and being there for my friend when he needed me, I ran. I was selfish. I was cowardly. And you need to know that I see now how wrong I was. And I hoped I wouldn’t ever have to, but then you came back, and...for whatever reason, I’m having to deal with this now. But it’s good. I needed to do this. I need to make amends. I’m truly sorry for the ways I’ve wronged you. And I hope that you forgive me.”

Neal knew. Neal knew that Gold genuinely cared for him, that he made a huge mistake and recognized that, that he wanted to make amends. And it was almost surreal to him to see before his eyes the transformation that had begun to occur after seven years of carrying an unnecessary burden. And he couldn’t help but wonder why…Why now? Was it solely because Neal had come back to SHIELD? Was it solely for the purpose of patching up their friendship (which was clearly the driving force)? Or did it maybe have to do a bit with this new partner of his? Maybe, Neal hoped from the bottom of his heart, maybe Robert wanted to make amends not only to reconcile with him, but to move on and be able to focus on being a better friend and partner to Belle.

“Bobby, I remember something you told me in my first couple months. You told me that that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it; forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you wanna called it, the point is... maybe we met again for a reason. Maybe something good is coming from all this, whether it’s to bring some assets back to SHIELD, to bring us peace, to learn from our mistakes… I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry I’ve just avoided you since all of this. And since you came back. I’ve had over three bloody months to say something, and I haven’t. I’m sorry, Neal.”

And Neal believed him. It would be a long road back to recover trust, but he believed him. Suddenly, Neal had more hope than he had had in awhile.

“And I forgive you,” Neal responded. “We just have to keep working through it. But no more of this ignoring each other bullshit or brooding in corners when I’m around. Okay?”

Gold reached out a hand for Neal, which Neal took in a handshake, only to pull Gold into him and wrap his free arm around him.

When Neal released him, Gold smirked and said, “It’s a deal, dearie.”

Maybe, finally, things were looking up for Neal Cassidy.

The pair fell into an awkward silence before Neal remembered the other topic for discussion nudging the back of his mind—Belle.

“So,” Neal finally spoke up, “How’s having a new partner?”

Gold sighed and gritted his teeth. How was it, honestly? It was something he tried not to take up too much of his brainpower, which he failed at regularly. Agent French took up a lot more of his thought life than he was willing to admit.

“She’s… she’s something.”

Neal answered with a toothy grin and then replied, “I like her. Witty little thing. But sweet. And packs a hell of a punch too, from what I’ve heard.”

Gold unconsciously reached up and touched the spot on his jaw where she had knocked him weeks prior. The jokes about the rookie who beat up the fearsome Agent Gold had finally come to a stop, but it was clear that Belle’s ( _no_ … Agent French. Not Belle) impression had had a lasting effect on the agents of SHIELD.

“That she does. And she’s quite well-rounded as far as intelligence goes, it appears. I know Banner is quite impressed with her.”

Neal couldn’t help but find himself more and more interested in Gold’s relationship with his new partner. And so he tried to push the envelope further still.

“What, afraid he’s gonna steal your girl?” he teased.

(Neal swore he saw just the faintest hint of a blush on Gold’s face).

“You know it’s nothing like that,” he bit back.

“How am I supposed to know? Everybody in SHIELD is hooking up these days.”

“You’re one to talk, Cassidy-nova.”

Neal had to smile at that. It was encouraging to see how easily they were starting to tiptoe toward normal again. Teasing and all.

“Shut up,” Neal said, his cheeks burning both from grinning so much and the scarlet blush that was covering his face. “You have to admit Belle’s cute.”

Three months. Over three months now of trying to suppress just that—French was cute. More than that. She was gorgeous and intelligent and perfect, and he had no reason whatsoever to be thinking of her that way.

_Arm’s length. Arm’s length. Keep her at arm’s length._

And then Neal interrupted his thinking.

“Oh my… You are jealous, aren’t you?”

Jealous? Of Dr. Banner? For fuck’s sake, all he’d done was have a conversation with her. And yet despite his partner showing an interest in wanting to get to know him, Gold was finding himself a little put off by Banner’s ability to connect with her.

It wasn’t so much that Gold was jealous of Belle ( _Agent French_ , he corrected again) and how well she was getting along with Banner and all of the other agents. It wasn’t that at all. Perhaps he was envious of everyone else’s ability to let it happen, rather than so fiercely try to push away as Gold was doing.

“Neal, no. I mean, yes. I mean—Agent French is very attractive—“

“So do you wanna sleep with her?”

This was getting absolutely ridiculous.

“Neal. _Enough.”_

Neal couldn’t quite place the look in Gold’s eyes. It wasn’t one he’d really seen from him before—it was full of conflict, annoyance, and the smallest bit of acknowledgment, that, yes, perhaps Agent Gold did have an innocent little crush on his partner. But nothing more.

“Agent French is very attractive,” Gold began. “But she’s also a person, and that person happens to be my partner, so I would very much appreciate if you treated her in a professional manner, no matter what other exploits you other agents seem to be getting into.”

“You know I’m just messing with you, right? Belle’s really cool, though. I’ve gotten to talk to her a little bit. And don’t worry, I think she likes you a little bit, too.”

And Gold felt his heart rate pick up just the slightest bit at that, but shook off the feeling immediately.

He wasn’t interested in crushes or dating or even in more recent years, any sort of relations with women at all. The job took up his life, and he’d learned to live without love.

He didn’t need some rookie agent who was nearly twenty years his junior messing with his head and trying to change that all now.

So he changed the subject.

“And you and Miss Swan?”

Neal’s face lit up at the mention of Emma, and he replied, “I like her. I like her a lot, Bobby. If she’s one of the outcomes of everything that’s happened, I think I can live with it a little bit easier, you know?”

It was incredible to Gold to begin to see just how much Neal had grown up. It was clear to him how much he cared for Emma—to go so far as to say that if all that he had been through had brought them together, then that was enough.

His friend was falling in love, and Gold couldn’t help but fall back to the idea of having someone. Love had only brought Gold pain. He’d gone through a lot of his life unloved and unloving—an enemy of the very thing itself. And yet love had clearly brought his friend out of so much mental and emotional turmoil and struggle. That kind of love was powerful. Freeing. And Gold almost (almost) wished that he could have that too.

Belle was much too far out of his league—it was a mere physical attraction that would never be reciprocated and nothing more.

But maybe, _if_ the opportunity presented itself, love wasn’t completely out of reach for Gold yet.

“Yeah. That’s wonderful, Neal. I’m happy for you.”

* * *

Clint’s face was pressed into his pillow as his mind drifted off on nonsensical tangents as he began to doze off. The bed dipped next to him, and Natasha placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“You up?”

He made a gruff noise and rolled over to find his girlfriend lying next to him with an elbow propped up on her pillow.

“Something up, Tasha?”

“No, just wondering if Grandpa Clint was still awake. Seriously, Steve is technically older than you, and I think he has more of a nightlife. Speaking of which—Bagelfire tomorrow with a bunch of the agents?”

Clint groaned and rolled back over.

“You also have to remember that Steve was given a serum. And he was fucking frozen for 70 years. I’m sure if I had spent the last several years asleep I’d be in better condition as well.”

“Even though everyone wonders what the hell you’ve been doing since New York?”

 He groaned again and growled into his pillow, “It’s called classified for a reason, Tasha. Being a master assassin isn’t exactly a job I can talk about at cocktail parties…But sure. Let’s go out tomorrow.”

Natasha urged him to move and face her again so she was half-laying on top of him, his arms coming to wrap around her waist.

“Can I help you with something?”

She leaned down and pressed her lips against his, sucking on his lower lip and spanning her hands down the muscles of his chest, covered by a thin t-shirt. One hand wandered over to his nipple, which she tweaked with her fingers, eliciting a groan from him. Reluctantly, she pulled away, Clint trying to chase her mouth with his until she was just out of reach.

“Yeah, I’m a little put off that my boyfriend seems more interested in sleep than in having hot, passionate sex with me.”

He groaned again, his head falling back against the pillow.

“Tasha…,” he whined.

She patted his chest and rolled off him, claiming her side of the bed and laying down facing him.

“I’m teasing,” she responded with a yawn. “I’m exhausted too.”

She burrowed deeper into the blankets and her pillows as they fell into silence, her eyes fixed on Clint’s pensive look.

He finally spoke up.

“Do you think French and Gold are banging?”

Well, that was not what she was expecting.

Natasha’s brow furrowed, and her mouth gaped open. _This_ was among the deep thoughts that kept her boyfriend up at night?

“What? No. I think maybe, eventually,” she sputtered. “I don’t know. The tension’s starting to get a little thick.”

“I say they crack before the end of her first year.”

“I really don’t want to think about our partners fucking, Clint.”

Clint shot her a cheeky grin, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to her lips before rolling over.

“Just wondering,” he called over his shoulder. “Everybody’s pairing off these days. I’m starting to wonder if Mills and Fury aren’t getting it on in their free time.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Good night, Clint.”

“Maybe we can see for ourselves tomorrow. Good night, Tasha.”

The next evening, Clint and Natasha joined the group of agents at the bar, disappointed to see that, while Belle had shown up, Gold was not in attendance. Clint was visibly bothered by it. Natasha knew he was very much looking forward to seeing the pair’s interaction.

The agents had made it to month four of their training, and in celebration, they were spending their Friday night at Bagelfire. Belle scanned around the bar to see several of her coworkers flitting about—Tony and Pepper were out on the dance floor with Ruby and Whale and Mary Margaret and David, while Clint, Natasha, and Steve sat on the other side of the bar, Belle keeping close to Emma and Neal, feeling a bit like a third wheel.

She couldn’t help but peer toward the door every now and then, wondering in the back of her mind if Gold would show up. She had noticed in the past week that he and Neal had become much more amiable with each other, and she had gathered that they must have talked things out. Still, it would have been nice to have him around now, where a lot of the agents had coupled off for the night.

Neal poked his head around to Belle from his spot next to Emma and asked, “So can I get you two ladies a drink?”

Emma ordered a Manhattan and Belle a Rum and Coke, and Neal rose and moved a few seats farther away from them to order. When Belle figured he was out of earshot, she turned to her friend and asked, “So you and Neal are doing well, I take it?”

“Really great. I’m sorry I haven’t really said much about it. We’ve just been—keeping it kind of private for now. Except for the part where Gold walked in on us the other day, but—But it’s good. I’m happy, Belle.”

Belle quirked an eyebrow. _Walked in on them…_

“Hold on, I think there’s a story behind the whole ‘Gold walking in on you two’ comment, yes?”

Emma blushed and peered down the bar to see Neal patiently waiting for their drinks. She turned back toward Belle and continued in a hushed tone.

“Not like that, but like. I don’t know. We were kissing. In his office. And Gold came in—“

“But I thought Gold and Neal still weren’t exactly on the best terms—“

“See, I was super shocked to see him there too! And I could tell Neal was. So I left, and when I talked to him later, he told me that they really settled a lot of things.”

Belle couldn’t help but smile, feeling almost proud of Gold for reaching out to Neal, and proud that Neal had been so willing to reconcile.

“So they’re good?” Belle inquired.

“Yeah, it sounds like it. It’s a long way back I’m sure after about seven years of awkwardness, but… It’s nice. Gold’s not a terrible guy necessarily. He just kind of sucks at human contact, so it makes him seem like an ass.”

Belle’s lips tugged into a smile as she responded.

“Yeah. Something like that, I guess.”

Later on, Tony corralled the group over to a private table away from the growing crowd of the bar and right next to dance floor, offering shots to anyone who wished to partake.

David downed his shot and turned to Tony.

“So how the hell does a place get a name like Bagelfire?”

Pepper was the first to answer.

“I heard the last business in this building was a breakfast place that had a bad accident with a faulty toaster and a bagel. Hence the name Bagelfire.”

“I didn’t know if it was just like some weird typo of a name or something,” David replied.

“It’s kind of a stupid name. But people seem to enjoy it. And it’s fun. So I can’t complain,” Tony added.

Pepper placed a hand on Tony’s knee and whispered in his ear a question about wanting to go dance more, which he promptly responded to by grabbing her hand and pulling her along onto the floor, the two beginning to sway to the beat of the music, and then Belle made the mistake of turning to see Tony’s hips gyrating and grinding into Pepper, and _wow, that is completely 100% not something I needed to ever see._

Belle quickly turned her head back to focus on something else until she felt the now-vacated seat next to her dip. She heard a throat clear behind her and turned to see Captain America himself hovering beside her.

Belle hadn’t gotten the chance to meet him before, but she’d seen him around plenty, and he was just as handsome as everyone had described, wearing a white button down and khakis, a lopsided and nervous smile gracing his face. He waved his hand.

“Hi. Steve Rogers,” he greeted.

Belle smiled sweetly, flattered that he seemed so interested in talking to her.

“Hi Steve. Belle French. Nice to meet you.”

He smiled wider, and she could tell he was growing more nervous as he asked, “I was wondering if you wanted to dance?”

_Oh._

And as much as she knew that any woman would love the chance to be on Steve Rogers’s arm, Belle found that she wasn’t really interested. He was certainly attractive, and an exceptional guy, but… _why wasn’t she interested?_

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’m really not much of a dancer…”

He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, mumbling apologies under his breath.

“…but you’re more than welcome to sit here and talk?” Belle added.

Steve seemed unfazed though, more than willing to turn his failed attempt at romance into friendly conversation.

“Yeah, that’d be great…So, Belle, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I was born in Melbourne, Australia, and I lived there until I was 15. My dad works for SHIELD, my mother passed away when I was 8, I’m an only child… Ummm, I’ll be working in the Division of Operations along with Clint and Natasha, as well as Agent Gold, who’s my partner. I’m really enjoying myself so far. It’s been quite challenging, but I like that… Yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

He smiled and nodded, genuinely interested in what she was saying. He looked, if Belle was honest with herself, almost captivated by her. And he seemed to be taking her innocent smile in response as encouragement.

“You know, you really remind me of someone I once knew.”

He hesitantly placed an arm around the back of the couch and smiled wider, about to continue, realizing he hadn’t quite gotten the hint.

“Oh, Steve… I’m sorry. That’s sweet, but I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

He removed his arm almost immediately.

“I—I am so sorry, Belle. I am really kind of terrible at dating and talking to women, and you just, I don’t know. I’ve heard so much about you and what a wonderful agent you’re going to be and how beautiful you are, and I just had to at least come to talk to you. I am so sorry for overstepping, and now I’m just rambling.”

Belle shook her head and laughed.

“No harm done, Steve. I’m flattered, really. And I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you as well. And I’m not the greatest at romance either, so don’t worry about it. From what I’ve overheard tonight, there are plenty of women who are interested in you.”

He blushed at that and replied, “It’s just the whole beautiful brunette with an accent thing I guess. Kind of reminded me a bit of Agent Carter.”

Steve grimaced at that, and Belle placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I understand. But I have no doubt that you’ll eventually find your love.”

“I appreciate that, Belle. I really do.”

They continued chatting about inane topics—small talk about training and SHIELD in general. And for some reason it continued to burn in the back of Belle’s mind—there was no reason she shouldn’t have a romantic interest in the man she was speaking with. He was wonderful and a perfect a gentleman. For someone who had such a longing for love, why could she never find it? Why did she have more of a longing to spend time with friends than commit to a relationship? And why did she continue to peer over at the entrance to the bar to see if maybe Agent Gold would walk in?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I am so sorry that this took about twice as much time as I intended it to. I've been sick for the past week and have been pretty much out of commission. Hopefully the 4000+ words of this chapter makes up for it haha. I'm just going to warn you now that classes start on Wednesday for me, so if I'm not as faithful in updating, I apologize in advance. I'll try to be as regular with my updates as possible (with Labor Day coming up this weekend hopefully I'll find some good down time). 
> 
> Next chapter we get to see more of the ladies hanging out and perhaps jealous!Gold...? 
> 
> Stay tuned. Comments and kudos and such are always appreciated. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see JealousAndFuckstruck!Gold, and Belle's starting to wonder if there's something there that wasn't there before...Also a little bit more of both Gold and Belle's backstories.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Six

\--

 

The walls of the gym seemed to be pulsating as Gold approached, reverberating to the sound of the bass from the sound system. Apparently, Agent French had beaten him here and wanted to get a head start on their workout.

The cacophony grew louder, lyrics muffled by the barriers of the doors and walls, the rhythm punctuated by the sound of someone’s fists making contact with the heavy bag.

He opened the door to be greeted by the sound of blaring, mid-tempo rock and Agent Belle French, all five-foot-two of her, furiously pounding away at the bag.

_Hey young blood  
Doesn’t it feel like our time is running out? _

She didn’t pay attention to him even as he walked closer to the sound system and prepared to make a move to unplug her phone.

_I’m gonna change you like a remix_

_Then I’ll raise you like a phoenix_

Another punch.

Her muscles rippled as she kept at work, her biceps defined by a clear line in the middle of her arm separating the muscles. She was wearing tight, black, capri-length yoga pants, and he could see the definition in her lean quadriceps through the fabric as she whirled around and kicked at the bag.

When she had come in almost four full months ago now, she had been in incredible shape. But watching her move, more gracefully (despite her inability to keep a cup of tea in its mug) and powerfully than ever, she looked almost ethereal.

It was almost an unspoken rule among the men of SHIELD that they all thought that Belle French was out of their league.  “Look but don’t touch,” and no one had made a move on her outside of Steve Rogers’ feeble and well-intentioned attempt a week ago.

Gold had heard Tony make an off-handed comment about how Capsicle was trying to get himself back out there, and the good Captain had found himself intrigued by the lovely Agent French.

But after that, Gold stopped listening. There was no need to let the uncomfortable twinge of…jealousy? (No, it couldn’t be that) overtake him.

She was his partner, for God’s sake. Nothing more.

The uncomfortable twinge of that unnamed feeling rising up his chest again, Gold plucked the auxiliary cable attaching French’s phone to the stereo system out, cutting the music and reducing the room to the sounds of her heavy breathing.

“You’re going to make it very easy for me today, aren’t you, French?”

She delivered one last kick to the bag and whirled around, an unamused look gracing her face.

“You’ll be rather fatigued by the time our session starts,” Gold continued.

She placed her hands on her hips and fought to catch her breath for a few moments before replying.

“Haven’t been here long. Fifteen minutes maybe. Just thought I’d warm up, so I could get a head start on kicking your ass again.”

He just smirked and began to walk toward her onto the mat.  

“I wouldn’t define a blow to the face while I was unprotected as ‘kicking my ass.’”

“Well, lucky for you, there’s no audience this time around. Go as hard as you want.”

Gold gritted his teeth and gulped at her comment as his mind freely reeled off about half a dozen ways in which he could do exactly that. He bit down on his lip hard to bring himself back to reality.

“I’ll try not to put you out of commission for too long. You still have six weeks of training left.”

She cocked an eyebrow as if trying to bait him into a challenge. And if he were a better man, he’d stop letting fleeting thoughts of fantasy cross his mind. But when she quirked her eyebrow like that and bit her lower lip, she made it impossible.

She had to know exactly what she was doing.

“We’ll see about that.”

_Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject._

He could feel the awkward tension surrounding them, about to suffocate him, but unsure whether or not it was just on his end or if she felt just as tense (judging by the look on her face, she was just enjoying teasing him), she backed off.

“You’re progressing very well, by the way, French. The powers that be are very impressed with you.”

He knew that he had thrown her off guard. She recovered quickly, but he could see that she was briefly taken aback by his sudden 180.

So she did what he had come to learn she did best. She threw it right back.

“And are you impressed with me, Agent Gold?”

“What?”

She half-smiled and went on. “You said Fury and Mills are impressed with me. That’s fabulous, but they’re not the ones I’m following across the world catching and killing the enemies. I want to know what you think.”

And behind the exterior that said, “I just want to know so I can better myself,” he could see the flickers of insecurity that shouted just a little bit louder, “I genuinely want to know you think I’m doing a good job.”

And maybe that was what he had grown to like about her so much—she was a hardass at work, intelligent and witty and could take you down physically, verbally, and probably any other way—but she was also sweet, longing for friendship and companionship. And she seemed to know exactly how to balance the two the majority of the time.

“I said that you’re progressing very well. And you are. You’re getting stronger, more agile.”

She looked as if she expected him to continue.

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“No, it’d just be nice to be evaluated a little bit more in depth by my own partner. You have more practical experience than a lot of the agents here. You can give me criticism, you know.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t see any glaring inadequacies in your abilities.”

Again, she seemed taken aback that he actually was, in fact, impressed with her.

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

An awkward moment of silence followed, before her phone vibrated in his hand. He peered down at it and bristled at what he saw.

 **_Steve Rogers_ ** _  
iMessage_

She grabbed her phone from him and went to take a drink from her water bottle and allow him a few minutes to warm up with the bag, and the sound of his now gloved fist first making contact with the bag startled her. Gold wasn’t messing around today.

He hated the effect that this woman had on him. More importantly, he hated that it bothered him that she may be seeing someone. It wasn’t his business. _Punch._ It won’t be his business. _Punch._ It never will be his business. _Kick._ It’s meaningless attraction. _Punch punch._

No matter how hard he hit over the course of those few minutes, it only made him angrier. Over a stupid text message. That he didn’t even know the content of.

“Actually, I do have one suggestion for improvement.”

The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. He could make something up. Or he could be honest. Or even just partially honest. He could tell her… _Oh, fuck it._ He braced himself against the bag for support.

“Perhaps it would be best to avoid romantic entanglements at this point in time.”

Her lips let go of the water bottle with a soft pop, and she turned around swiftly to face him.

“Excuse me?”

“Idle chatter has lent itself to the possible coupling of you and a certain Captain.”

“Were you reading my texts?” she shrieked.

“No, I just—“

He held onto the bag harder.

“I just saw the name come up on your screen and remembered that I had heard something about it…”

He shrugged and seemed to shrink, and again, he found something to hate about her that day. This time, it was the fact that she was probably seeing right through the cracks in his armor.

But Belle just shook her head and laughed in response.

“Oh, no. That was a misunderstanding. He tried to ask me out, but I said no.”

“Well, good.”

Her brow furrowed, and she replied, “How is that any of your business?”

“Friendly advice?”

She gave a theatrical scoff, but her lips curved up in a genuine smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

“Oh, so we’re friends now?”

He couldn’t help but smile back at her. She actually wanted to befriend him.

“Partners. Friends. Colleagues. I don’t see what else we’d be.”

“Well, if I choose to date someone, I think that that is my own choice.”

He shrugged and turned back toward the mat.

“Fine. I just don’t think that you should date him. Or anyone.”

 _How in the world did that woman elicit so many thoughts that he wanted to keep private out into the open?_ When he turned back toward her, she was grinning.

“Are you jealous?”

“Why the hell would you suggest that?” he grumbled.

“’Fine. I just don’t think you should date him. Or anyone.’ That sounds an awful lot like jealousy, Gold,” she responded, even mocking his accent as she mimicked what he had said.

He was cornered now. He could be honest and say, “Well, yeah, I think I have a little crush on you. But don’t mind it. It’s not important.” Or he could shift the focus away from her. And in the process, reveal a past he longed to forget about.

Well. They were friends after all.

He took a deep breath and continued.

“Or maybe I just know from experience that sometimes there’s another side of the coin besides happily ever afters like everyone else around here these days. Maybe I’m just trying to tell you that dating someone in this setting can end very poorly.”

Gold peered up at her and saw the question in her eyes, just barely hanging onto the tip of her tongue. But she refrained from asking.

“Well, maybe I’m a little more optimistic. I believe that love is layered. Love is a mystery to be uncovered. And I’m sure all of the couples here have had incredibly difficult things to deal with. But when you find something worth fighting for, you never give up.”

“Well, that’s your decision then. I’m merely making a suggestion.”

She shifted uncomfortably under his stern gaze.

“It’s fine, but, we’re wasting time now. We should get started.”

“Right.”

French turned to grab her boxing gloves, her lips pursing with an unasked question on her lips.

“So, am I allowed to ask what happened that makes you want to dissuade me from dating anyone here?”

 _Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._ Relationships required trust. And no matter what his relationship with French would ultimately end up being, she was his partner. She was his friend. He hated talking about Cora, would avoid it at all costs and if he could, would tell Whale to find a way to erase the epically failed relationship from his memory. But if nothing else, after almost twenty years, maybe talking about it to someone besides Neal or Regina or David would help further eliminate the shame he felt.

_Oh, what the hell._

“Okay. I’ll tell you.”

He could see that she was pleasantly surprised by his response, but she smiled and waited patiently for his story.

“I suppose you’ve heard briefly of Regina’s older sister who betrayed SHIELD to join HYDRA. Regina and I had both just joined SHIELD. Cora, Regina’s older sister, was introduced to me, and being the young and naïve twenty-something I was, I found myself besotted with Cora. We started dating, and I was crazy about her. After about a year, that was when she was found out to be aiding HYDRA. Had been using our relationship to get intel on other agents and specifically, Agent Romanoff, to try to assassinate her because of the asset she had become. Really fucked up—“

He quit rambling when Agent French cut him off. Her face had twisted into a frown, a genuinely apologetic look on her face.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I guess it’s easy when all you see are happy endings around here. Fuck… What a bitch.”

“One of the kinder words for her. But yes. Now you know a piece of my tragic backstory that makes me the brooding bastard I am today. I know I said I owed you that.”

Belle smiled sweetly but then continued to shake her head in disbelief, as if Cora herself had personally offended her.

“And the whole thing—it was a ruse? She kept it up for that long? How could anyone do that to another human being?”

Gold smiled sadly and answered, “The woman’s a raging sociopath. She gets off on needing people to need her. I was young and dumb and she sucked me in.”

He could see Agent French was still shell-shocked from his tale, but she smiled at him appreciatively.

And then she shifted uneasily as the silence between them wore on for a few beats too long, finally breaking it when she said, “Well, thank you. For being open with me. I appreciate your input. And hey, I actually am kind of tired. Think we can rain check on this? I have to meet Ruby for lunch soon anyway.”

He nodded his consent and replied, “Well, don’t let one horror story sway your decision. It’s your choice.”

Her smile widened. He was well aware that no one decided Belle French’s fate but her. And he could respect that. As much as he hopelessly wanted their fates to be much more entwined.

“Well, for the record, I’m genuinely not interested in Steve. Not romantically. He’s a great friend, but he’s not my type.”

And French started flat-out grinning when Gold responded to that with a genuine, deep laugh. 

“And what, pray tell, is your type, Agent French?”

She held his gaze, and they lapsed into silence again. He could tell she had a response made up in her mind—she was just debating whether or not to verbalize it.

And then she planted her feet more firmly on the ground and answered him, that streak of bravery and rebellion shining brightly through.

“I prefer a man with a little more edge. A little…brooding. The bad boy, if you will.”

Well, that was not what he was expecting.

“See you around, Gold.”

And with that, she sauntered—fucking swayed her way—out of the gym, leaving a stunned Agent Gold in her wake.

He was teetering dangerously close to a cliff he hadn’t allowed himself near since Cora, and if he didn’t stop now, he’d willingly throw himself off.

And Gold was very close to quit trying to keep himself from falling.

* * *

Longing to forget how embarrassed she was about her overt flirting with Agent Gold earlier in the day, Belle jumped at the chance to go out for drinks with Natasha, Mary Margaret, and Pepper.

She was nursing her second beer, and the scene was still playing all too clearly in her head.

_“I prefer a man with a little more edge…”_

_What in the bloody hell had she been thinking? And why did she do that?_

She forgot for a split second when Natasha directed her attention at Belle.

“So how’s training with Gold going, Belle?”

Belle wanted to scream at her friend’s chosen topic of conversation. She’d rather have been talking about poor Steve’s giant crush on her. But not this. Because Belle honestly didn’t know what _“this”_ was. Gold was interesting and complex and brooding and a total bastard and…

“Not terrible, actually. Definitely less tense when he’s around everyone else since he’s made amends with Neal.”

“But…?”

Belle knit her eyebrows.

“But what? I told you. It’s not bad. He’s not that bad.”

“I know,” Natasha replied. “His bark is way worse than his bite. I just get the feeling like there’s something else you want to say.”

Belle could have sworn the whole universe was just out to get her to spill her guts tonight. But she trusted these three women (and unlike Ruby—bless her heart—they wouldn’t gossip about it). They could give her practical advice. So Belle took a swig of her beer and began.

“Well, we were just…talking today, before we were supposed to work out together. And he was being surprisingly candid about…trust, about…workplace romances.”

 “Oh, if Ruby were here, she’d be eating this up right now,” Mary Margaret joked.

Belle just glared at her, and the meaning behind it was obvious.

Pepper chimed in. “What did he say?”

“He had just mentioned that he heard that Steve had asked me out—“

 “Oh my, was he jealous?”

 _Perhaps I should have left Mary Margaret out of this conversation,_ Belle thought, getting flustered.

“I—No. He just—“

Then Natasha joined in.

“He was referring to Cora, wasn’t he?”

 “Like Cora Mills?” Pepper asked. “Regina’s older sister and the one who betrayed SHIELD to join Hydra?”

“Yep. That Cora. They had a relationship some years back when Gold had just started. He really closed off after Cora. Made him fall in love with her only to pull the rug out from under him. From everyone. Clint and I had just started when it happened.”

Belle's hatred toward this Cora Mills only continued to grow as Natasha summarized for Mary Margaret what Gold had told her earlier. She felt a weird sense of protectiveness for her partner, and Belle decided that she would love to take a swing at Cora given the chance. Gold was her friend. As much as he frustrated her. As much as he confused her. 

She had to stop thinking about it before she started ruminating again. 

The conversation had tapered off a bit, so Belle took her opportunity to change it to something safer.

 “So Mary Margaret, how’s wedding planning?”

“Great—only three more months to go. June 7th!”

But as her friend gushed on about her fiancé, and Pepper and Natasha listened intently and made their respective offers to help out with the wedding in any way they could, Belle's mind kept wandering. Gold must have thought she was insane. She had literally implied that Gold was her type. And yes, Belle had always found herself interested in the edgy man. 

She had only had a few relationships in the past, but they proved the point for the most part—Mark, her high school boyfriend, who wore leather jackets and was grungy and nothing but trouble, Blake, a TA in one of her English classes in college that she dated briefly, was a little bit sweeter, and then Gaston, a football star at Storybrooke, her most serious boyfriend. They’d dated for a year when Belle was in grad school. Gaston was full of himself and cocky but treated Belle well enough for her to stay around. Until she announced that was considering going into the SHIELD Academy.

Gaston wasn’t too thrilled about having a girlfriend who was tougher than him. (“No one’s slick as Gaston. No one’s quick as Gaston," as he would always say.) 

But just because that was Belle's "type," didn't mean that Gold thought she was coming on to him? Right? 

Gold was certainly attractive, always wearing well-tailored, expensive suits, and when he was in the gym, his outfits always accentuated his lean muscles. 

And he trusted her, clearly... He'd begun to open up to her. And what if he really was jealous about Steve? 

Belle was only certain of one thing: If she was going to make it through the night without driving herself insane over Gold, she was going to need something a little stronger than a beer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRRYYYYYY that this took like... way too long. My life is crazy busy, but it's crazy busy with things I love, so that's a plus! As a result though, this has taken kind of a backseat. However, this week will be a little lighter hopefully, so I'm hoping I can get some writing done! Also I have a prompt from my friend, Meg, that I have to fill at some point. So maybe I'll do that first. I don't know. 
> 
> But ANYWAY. Huge, ginormous shoutout to da luv of muh lyfe, Meaghan (bambi1994), for all but jumping on a plane and beating me half to death to help me finish write this. Go read her fic if you haven't already, and tell her that she needs to post new things because she hasn't, and I need her to write things. But yes. Shoutout to her for being fabulous. After all, she was the one who gave me the original prompt for this fic. Also, she paid me to write this shoutout. I mean, what? 
> 
> (That one was merely a quip--not serious.) Okay. This Author's note is a hot mess. Thank you SO much for the love for this fic. Over 1000 hits already? Wat? I just... Thank you. Thanks so much. 
> 
> One more note: The song playing in the gym when Belle's working out in the beginning is "The Phoenix" by Fall Out Boy, and it's my jam. Also thanks to Meaghan for helping me decide on a song to put in there because I couldn't think of anything. The girl's a freaking boss and this story would be literally nothing without her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belle and Gold are offered a special assignment, and Neal and David give Gold dating advice because their bromance is beautiful.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Seven

\--

 

Five weeks left. Belle had just five weeks of training left. And there was something very exciting and altogether terrifying about that. Because in five weeks, there would be no more sparring with just Gold or Natasha or fraternizing with the other agents of SHIELD. She would be chasing down criminals and HYDRA agents across the world.

She was walking down the hallway of one of the floors of the Triskelion, headed to meet Emma for a guest lecture from Pepper, when her phone vibrated.

**_Robert Gold_ ** _  
iMessage_

_Fury and Mills want to meet with us. 9:30._

She peered up from the message to the top of her phone screen to see the time. 9:15.

No lecture for her.

So instead, Belle wheeled around and headed back toward the elevator, sending Emma a text that she would have to skip out on the lecture due to a meeting, and pressed the button for the top floor.

She arrived on the floor and braced herself as she strolled (as confidently as she could) into the conference room where Gold, Regina, and Director Fury were already waiting for her.

Belle wondered if it was actually possible for her heart to beat right out of her chest or for her stomach to roll straight out of her body.

“Agent French. Agent Gold. Thank you for coming in. There’s a matter we wanted to discuss with you.”

Belle just steeled herself beside Gold and nodded with a feigned eagerness.

_Were they getting rid of her? Were they making her switch partners? Good God, did Gold think she really was coming on to him and was turning her in for harassment?_

“Agent French,” Director Fury began. “You’ve shown incredible promise thus far, and as you only have about five weeks left of your training in the Academy, we were hoping that you would feel comfortable joining Strike Team Delta for a mission prior to the completion of your training. We planned to send Gold, Barton, and Romanoff, but Agent Gold made a very strong argument for you to go ahead and join them.”

_Oh._

“Just this once,” Regina added. “You’ll have Agents Barton and Romanoff to lead you as well as Agent Gold. We definitely feel like you’re capable of already being an asset to this team. Are you up for it?”

Well, that answered the question of whether or not Gold felt awkward around her. He certainly wouldn’t have lobbied for her to spend more time with him had he felt that way.

And did he really have that much faith in her? He really thought that she could be a contributing factor even sans her final month of training? Even on such short notice?

It excited her and scared her half to death all at the same time. And perhaps it was against her better judgment, because her brain was screaming, “Tell them you’ll think about it,” but her heart had other ideas.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll go.”

Regina gave her a broad smile and replied, “Excellent. Director Fury will give you the assignment.”

Regina held a remote up to a large touch screen, and Fury pressed some buttons on the screen to reveal portraits of a beautiful red-headed woman and a man in his 30s with fluffy, spiked brown hair and dark eyes.

“We’re launching a new initiative to bring HYDRA down. HYDRA has a base called Wonderland in Amsterdam. Cora Mills has risen to high ranks in HYDRA and along with her has taken her sister, Zelena, with her. Zelena and Cora have a man named Jefferson Hatter running this base—he goes by the alias ‘Mad Hatter.’ We need you to infiltrate the base, find the Hatter, and get intel on the Mills’ whereabouts from him and his employees. Cora is very fond of Hatter, and we could use him as a bargaining piece should we need to.”

Belle was definitely convinced that her stomach was going to roll right out of her body and onto the floor.  Chasing the higher-ups of HYDRA on her first mission was not what she had been expecting.

As soon as Regina thanked the two agents and nodded her goodbye, giving the go-ahead for Belle and Gold to leave, Belle whirled around on her heel and exited as quickly as she could. She needed to go find Emma and Pepper at the lecture and have them talk her down.

_Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow, Belle. Do the brave thing. You can do it._

“French…”

Gold was calling out behind her as she sped down the hallway as fast as her heels would allow.

She didn’t turn around.

“Belle.”

And as if his using her first name (finally) held some sort of magical power over her, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Belle, wait.”

She turned around and reluctantly gazed up at Gold, who had continued walking toward her and now stood directly in front of her.

She’d never noticed the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And as he reached out to give her shoulder an encouraging squeeze she wondered if his touch always felt so electric or if it was just a chance spark.

The way he was looking at her both gave her a warm feeling throughout her body and terrified her.

Much like this upcoming mission.  

Belle French was so far out of her comfort zone.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I know you want to please Fury and Mills, but just know that we’re not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable doing. I’ve made that mistake before, and I’m not about to do it again.”

Belle was pretty sure that in the course of the past fifteen minutes she had shrunk to approximately six inches tall. She had wanted adventure—well, she was getting it. She just hadn’t expected it to come so quickly.

“Thank you. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know. But, I think I’m pretty set on going. No better way for me to learn than through practical experience, right?”

Belle knew her partner (partner—he was actually going to be her partner—that she would traipse all around the bloody world with. She was actually going to do this and the thought terrified her.) could see right through her. Part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction and go deal with this in the gym, and part of her was really hoping for some reassurance from him.

“You know, they had me do a mission before I was done with training. Budapest with Barton and Romanoff. Scared the hell out of me. I threw up at least once on the plane ride there. So if you get nervous, it’s okay. It’s natural. Just know that it’s not a weakness.”

(Yep, the encouragement was much more fulfilling than the alternative probably.)

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

He smirked before adding with cheeky smile, “If nothing else, you can always injure the target by spilling scalding hot tea on them.”

“You’re an ass,” she replied, but her feigned anger was betrayed by the little giggle that bubbled up out of her.

They exchanged smiles, and Belle reached out for his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. And there was that weird, electric feeling again.

“Really. Thanks. We have a few days before we leave, so at least I have a little bit to prepare. However else I can prepare myself.”

He just nodded in understanding.

“Yes. I’ve found the greatest way to prepare yourself for this sort of career is to start going.”

Belle shrunk back into the silence and into her anxiously racing mind.

Seeing this, Gold tried his best to offer her the encouragement he could.

“You’re going to be just fine.”

She shook her head and sighed.

“You don’t know that, Gold.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, sighed, and gazed down at her earnestly.

“Belle, you’re brilliant. And yeah, a lot of people have those great qualities but can’t apply them and make practical use of them. You can. I’ve seen bits and pieces of it already. So yes. Regardless of what happens on this mission, you’ll come out on the other end of it just fine, I think.”

She really couldn’t argue with him with the way he was looking at her.  

“Thank you. Really. Thank you.”

She turned to walk away again and headed toward the elevators. Five months ago, if someone told her she would be turning to the fearsome Agent Gold for advice, if someone told her that she actually enjoyed being around him and looked forward to the parts of her day when she got to see him, she may have quit the whole program because there was no way in hell that that would have been possible.

And as she strolled into the elevator, suddenly craving a chai tea latte, she couldn’t help but marvel at how far the two of them had come.

* * *

Gold sat between David and Neal, the three of them perched along the bar at Bagelfire.

Neal took a sip of his beer and leaned over Gold to ask, “So how’s wedding planning, David?”

David just sighed and shook his head.

“Stressful. Mary Margaret is obsessing over details for her bridesmaids’ dresses and the colors, and I don’t think I can take anymore internal conflicts about which of the designs to pick from the ones they’ve agreed on.”

Neal chuckled.  “I’m sure Emma is having a field day with that.”

“Oh, they all are. Belle, Emma, Ruby—they’re all driving each other to drink, I think.”

“Yeah, Emma’s been pretty stressed with maid of honor duties.”

“Yeah, I guess Belle’s been helping out some with that too just to help even the load with everything they have going on,” David explained.

“So speaking of Belle…,” Neal began, leaning back and fixing his eyes on Gold. “You guys are taking her out for a test run, huh?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think she’s a little anxious about it. Understandably so. Going after Zelena Mills’s minions isn’t exactly a routine mission, let alone a first one.”

Neal shrugged.

“She’ll do just fine. Girl’s got bigger balls than most of the men here.”

Gold remained fairly quiet, staring down at his drink and avoiding eye contact. He had plenty of faith in Belle. He just hated that she was so nervous. And he hated that that was bothering him even more.

So Robert Gold did what he did best. He deflected.

“How are things with you and Agent Swan?” he asked.

Neal smiled shyly, staring intently at his beer.

“Good. Really good. All the time we get to spend together with training sure doesn’t hurt either. Especially when it involves her all hot and sweaty underneath me—“

“Neal. Way too much detail,” David interrupted.

“I was talking about sparring, you sick bastard,” Neal shot back with a cheeky grin.

David just rolled his eyes and finished off his drink, and Neal turned back toward Gold, who was chuckling at his friend’s innuendo.

“And how goes the pursuit of Miss French?” he asked.

_Bloody hell. Cassidy just cannot let this go._

“Neal…”

“Hear about Steve’s attempt at asking her out? Poor guy. Belle was so sweet about letting him down easy, though. She is something else.”

Yes. Yes, he had heard about it. And he wasn’t particularly up to being reminded of how blatantly jealous he had acted throughout the whole conversation.

Gold went for the safe answer.

“Yes, we… discussed it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told her that at this point in time, it might be wise to hold off on the pursuit of a romantic relationship. Especially with another agent. And then to illustrate that, I told her about Cora and me.”

Both David and Neal’s eyebrows jumped when he mentioned Cora.

“And what did she say to that?” David prodded.

He was getting flustered now, praying to anything and anyone that this conversation would die a very sudden death.

“I think she felt really bad for asking. But then even after that, she was awfully flirty. At least it seemed to me. I don’t know. I really haven’t paid much attention to that in awhile.”

“Well,” Neal began. “I’m not going to make a guess about whether or not she’s interested in you. I don’t know. But she’s certainly not shying away from flirting. Which is farther than pretty much every other guy here has gotten with her. So I’d say you’re in pretty good shape. Plus, as her partner, you’re one of her best friends here. You know her better than almost everyone, save for Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret. And she’s known them for years. If you’re interested, I’d say it’s worth a shot, man.”

Gold remained silent, eyes glued to the smooth, shiny wood of the bar top. As much as he trusted Neal and David, women were not a topic that Gold liked to touch on with them. At least not when any female interests of his were the center of the conversation. Especially not Belle. He didn’t need his friends to know about some ridiculous crush that was growing rapidly out of control. He could deal with that on his own, regardless of whether or not Neal thought he should take a shot at asking her out.

The silence wore on, and Gold showed no signs of answering. Neal continued to watch his friend as he stared down at the bar blankly. He was trying so hard not to give anything away, but to Neal, the silence said it all.

“Oh wow, you really, really like her, don’t you?”

_Fucking hell, Neal._

Gold rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes and sighed, hoping his response would placate Neal.

“I think she’s an interesting individual. She’s ridiculously intelligent, witty, strong. But she also has a really big heart. She’s…genuine. She’s real. I think any man with a pulse couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. I’m not an exception.”

Neal and David exchanged huge grins. Seeing this, Gold rolled his eyes and mumbled, “You cannot mention any of this to anyone.”

“Not even Mary Margaret? I could try and get some intel.”

“This isn’t a mission, Nolan,” Gold growled back.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted uncomfortably. This bar was suddenly way too warm and the collar of his shirt too tight and he could feel drops of sweat pricking at his back and Gold was just _so damn uncomfortable._

“I don’t know where this even came from.”

It rolled out of his mouth before he could even stop it, and before his brain could catch up with his mouth, he kept going.  “She just kind of snuck up on me all the sudden and now… I do. I really do like her.”

He was met with a simultaneous response “That’s adorable, Bobby,” and “Atta boy” from his two friends.

“So go do something about it,” Neal urged.

“No, I told her… I told her not to get romantically involved with another agent. I’m no exception. Rather, I’m the perfect example of why she shouldn’t.”

“Bobby…” David began.

But Gold slammed his fist down in irritation.

“Don’t tell me to let go of the past or any of that bullshit. She’s off limits. Just because I have feelings for her doesn’t mean that I need to pursue it.”

So David and Neal just sat quietly and waited for the bartender to come around again, so they could order more drinks. The subject of Belle was dropped for the rest of the night.

But even when he went to sleep that night, Belle French’s piercing blue eyes were all that Gold could see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT FLUSTERED GOLD ALL IN LUV. WHAT A WOOBIE. 
> 
> Shoutout to the amazing people who continue to make this fic possible: Meaghan, Meg, and all you ridiculous people who are reading this author's note because you probably just finished reading the chapter. Thank you so much. I wish I could apologize for the slow burn, but I really can't lol. It's gonna continue for a little bit yet. Building up the tension is just too fun. 
> 
> Also, as you see, I've made Regina, Cora, and Zelena sisters in this fic because AINT NOBODY got time to deal with that screwed up family tree. Just thought this would make it easier. 
> 
> Again, thanks so much for the feedback and all the love.
> 
> Let me know how you liked chapter seven! Kudos, comment, etc below!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belle and Gold go on their first mission together, Clint is his usual hilarious self, and cute shippy moments occur.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Eight

\--

 

Seated comfortably on one of SHIELD’s private aircrafts, Clint and Natasha made idle small talk while Belle sat stock still in her own seat. Maybe she’d understand someday, but she really couldn’t see how Clint and Natasha could be so nonchalant about this, as if where they were headed right now was just an afterthought. She remained silent as Clint shifted the conversation to include the other two agents.

“Have you guys ever noticed that people never shorten Strike Team Delta?” Clint asked. “Like they never make it an acronym. And then I thought about it a little bit, and I realized that the acronym would be STD.”

Clint’s quip relieved just a bit of the tension in Belle’s shoulders, and she couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“My boyfriend, everyone,” Natasha responded. “Master assassin and expert five year old.”

Gold didn’t seem all too amused though. It was his first mission in seven years with anyone besides Clint and Natasha, and Belle imagined that he was probably rehashing in his head all the ways to make sure not to mess up this time.

“Enough about names and diseases,” Gold snapped. “We’ll be landing in less than an hour now. Let’s run down how these next 24 hours are going to go.”

Clint looked unfazed by Gold’s small outburst, so Belle tried not to let it unnerve her.

“Well, first we do the usual—check in at a hotel with fake names yadda yadda. We’re here under the ruse that the four of us are best friends going on a couple’s retreat. So Natasha and I will share a room, and…”

Natasha cut him off with a groan.

“Clint, you didn’t actually book Gold and French for one room, did you?”

Belle shifted uncomfortably as her partner’s face paled and his eyes went wide.

Clint sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did. It’ll work, okay? Robert, Belle—you guys are in a suite with separate rooms, so you don’t have to worry about sleeping arrangements.”

That did little to put Belle at ease (and by the looks of it, Gold also), and she went back to staring out the window into the sky.

“We were just fine when we stayed in the same room when we took Loki down in New York a few years ago,” Clint added.

“Yeah, but—“

Natasha saw Belle shift in discomfort.

“You know what, never mind,” she said.

“Ahh, the good ole days of destroying New York,” Clint replied, a faux wistful look upon his face. “Shame you weren’t around then, Belle. You would have enjoyed that mission. And despite his murderous ways, I think you would have enjoyed Loki.”

Belle made a face, but knowing Clint was only being sarcastic, decided to indulge him.

“And why is that?”

Clint shrugged and offered her a wry smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I could just see you being into bad boys.”

Natasha and Belle both burst out laughing, with Gold off to the side stone-faced and looking annoyed.

“Yes, Clint, I’ve always dreamed of an evil Asgardian sweeping me off my feet,” Belle responded.

Clint chuckled. “I’m sure. Couldn’t you see it, Gold?”

Gold straightened at the mention of his name and averted his gaze to his partner. Seeing the playful gleam in her eye, he let his guard down a bit (she just _had_ to have that effect on him every damn time) and indulged their humor.

“I’ve been told that Agent French is into the more brooding, bad boy type, yes. Though I sincerely hope that she would not take it to such… _extreme_ levels.”

“Well, Steve Rogers is anything but a bad boy, so I’ve got to go somewhere to get my fix,” she replied jokingly. But the look on her face afterward was anything but joking. It was playful, sure, but she this look in her eyes—one that he was so used to seeing now—one of interest and intrigue and flirtation. They found themselves at this stalemate all too often, neither one willing to keep the banter going.

So as usual, he backed off.

“Well,” he mumbled, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

But Belle knew that the look in his eyes was anything but joking as well.

* * *

When they arrived at the hotel, Clint and Natasha played the part perfectly, hands intertwined as they headed for the front desk to check in. Belle, desperate and probably overzealous to make sure she sold her false identity, grabbed at Gold’s hand and immediately felt him tense up.

He gave her a warning look, but she just leaned in to his side and whispered, “Just play the part.”

He nodded dumbly, and he kept his fingers tangled with hers, her arm pressed against his, as they waited behind Clint and Natasha.

Belle really wished she could ignore the butterflies in her stomach that had begun (and now showed no signs of going away) when she slid her palm against his and reached for his hand.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“Reservation for Gold,” he mumbled gruffly as Clint and Natasha left the desk, Natasha turning around and staring down at the pair’s joined hands with a devious smile.

Gold let go of Belle’s hand to reach for the room key, the sudden loss of contact unpleasant for the both of them. They left the desk and stood in front of the elevator waiting, and Belle snaked her arm around his elbow, pressing into him once again.

She started to wonder how much of her was playing a role and how much of her just wanted to be close to him.

Again, Gold tensed at her touch and looked down at her, alarmed.

“Am I really that repulsive that you can’t even pretend for five minutes that we’re dating?” she joked.

He peered down at her again, and the look in his eyes was almost… worried.

“No, it’s not that,” he rejoined quickly.

Belle cocked her head to the side, willing him to explain, but the elevator made a loud “ding!” announcing its arrival, and the two stepped inside to head up to the fifth floor. Belle kept her arm looped in his, and it was now that she was really starting to hate her inherently tactile nature and the way it was making her feel.

He led them to their suite, and the awkward silence that had overtaken them continued as she let go of his arm and allowed him to open the door, luggage trailing behind them.

“You take your pick of the rooms,” he mumbled.

She shrugged.  “Oh, no, it doesn’t really matter to me.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Belle had never understood the phrase “deafening silence.” Awkward silences happened often, but how could the dead quiet seem so loud? But she could see it now. She could feel it now. This silence—where tension filled the air so thickly and seemed to press in on her eardrums and constrict her lungs and blur her vision.

And in the deafening silence, where everything else was drowned out but the sound of her own voice in her head, Belle realized she was exhausted by Agent Gold. Exhausted by the chemistry between them since the moment they’d met—despite his gruff exterior and her spilling tea all over him. Exhausted by the fact that over the past five months, he’d gotten under her skin and challenged her and started to cherish her and befriend her. And more than anything, she was exhausted by the fact that she didn’t feel that around anyone else.

The fleeting sparks when she held his hand weren’t so fleeting. Her heart was still racing.

It wasn’t just a silly school girl crush. Belle’s feelings for him were real, genuine.

And maybe that’s what scared her so much about this mission. She’d rather fail anyone else than fail him. And Belle was incredibly nervous that somehow, she would screw it up.

She had gotten so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him trying to speak to her.

“Huh?”

“I said, if it’d make you more comfortable, I’ll buy you your own room. I know these aren’t exactly ideal—“

 “No,” she replied, her resolve strengthening. “It’s fine. This is part of the job—being undercover, playing the part. I can do this.”

He didn’t argue with her. She took the room on the left, and he took the one on the right.

* * *

Hydra’s Wonderland base was located outside of Amsterdam in a town called Durgerdam. The base was located in an abandoned warehouse along the quaint shores of Lake Yssel. According to the files, HYDRA had taken it over just months prior, leaving Agent Jefferson Hatter to run the base and provide another headquarters from which to wreak havoc on northern Europe.

Natasha stalked along the dimly lit sidewalk to find a nondescript entrance to the base, Clint following closely behind her and Gold and Belle several hundred feet back. She pressed a button on a device on her wrist and spoke clearly and quietly into it.

“Going in now. You guys waiting outside?”

A crackle from the speaker and then Belle’s voice came through.

“Yeah, we’re out here. Back exit. Just make the call if you need us.”

“Will do,” Natasha replied. “And Belle?”

The young agent responded with a simple “Yes?”

Natasha’s eyes flicked up to meet Clint’s and she smiled as she gave her final order to Belle.

“Just try to relax.”

 Natasha hung up and turned back to Clint with a nod.

“Clint, let’s go.”

“On it.”

“Looking for someone?”

Clint and Natasha whirled around, him with an arrow ready to fire and her with two guns out and cocked. The two of them came face to face with Jefferson Hatter, who steadily held two guns back at him.

“You might wanna rethink that, Hatter,” Clint responded. “You shoot one of us, the other shoots you.”

He shrugged.

“Well, still have one of SHIELD’s finest dead. And isn’t that what I’m after?”

Clint just sighed and let the arrow go—a specialized arrow that released a net as he let it fly, entrapping Hatter in a mesh casing and knocking him to the ground.

“Son of a—“

Natasha and Clint just chuckled.

“Well, that was easy.”

The two of them lifted him up from within the netting and hauled him off down the hallway.

Natasha turned to Clint and ordered, “Call Gold and French. Let ‘em know we’ll need them for a little interrogation.”

* * *

Gold strode up to the chair withholding Hatter with a trademark swagger that Belle recognized from their first interaction—he was calm, cool, and collected, unnervingly so, around people he was unfamiliar with. Belle followed behind him reluctantly, her hand twitching and ready to pluck one of the guns from her holster at any moment.

“We’ll take things from here, Agent Romanoff,” Gold nodded, Clint and Natasha disappearing into the shadows, no doubt to find a nearby hiding spot were things to go awry for some reason.

Gold leaned in to Jefferson, placing his foot on the edge of the chair.

“Now, tell me what you know about Zelena Mills’s whereabouts.”

Belle remained behind Gold, just watching his shoulders tense and listening to his voice get more and more menacing.

But Hatter was quick to meet Gold’s eyes and just stare back at him in silence, a cocky smile gracing the HYDRA agent’s face.

“We can do this one of two ways, Jefferson. Easy way or the hard way. I’m well aware of several methods of torture that I’ve just been _dying_ to brush up on.”

Belle had carefully tiptoed around to see Gold’s face in profile—teeth bared, eyes dark and angry, out for blood. Her stomach began to twist in knots. She wasn’t strong enough for this. She could turn the rage on full blast in the gym or in practice scenarios, but this was reality. This was a real mission.

And she was freezing. She was coming up empty.

“Why don’t you just make it easy and kill me?” Jefferson shrugged as he asked flippantly. “That’s what you’ll end up doing anyway, right?”

Belle remembered Gold telling her once that she would have to find her emotion—find her rage. _Sometimes on missions, you have to think more of why you’re doing something and who you’re protecting rather than what you’re actually doing._

And the longer she stared at Jefferson, who just looked up at her partner blankly, with no remorse or any quality of humanity for that matter, the angrier she became. He looked to be out for blood just for the sport of it. Gold was out for blood for a cause.

 _Find your emotion, French,_ Gold had told her. _Find your rage. What’s that phrase you always say? Do the brave thing and bravery will follow? That’s exactly what you have to do._

Belle found her fingers ghosting along the grip of her gun, poised to grab it if needed, and then she snapped out of her reverie when she heard her partner’s voice.

“No, we need you to gain information. You give us what we want, and we’ll see where we go from there. But you have a much better chance of survival than if I choose to blow your brains out right now.”

Jefferson just grinned smugly, and something about the way that the bastard was nearly laughing in the face of one of the most decorated agents of SHIELD, seemingly unfazed by his threats, caused something to snap inside.

_Oh. There’s your emotion._

Hatter gave another shrug and replied, “You wanna know where Zelena is? Well, I don’t know.”

Another shit-eating grin from Hatter and Belle whipped her gun out without a second thought, pointing the weapon at his head.

Jefferson shifted his eyes to Belle at the sound of the gun cocking; Gold still remaining trained on the enemy.

“Oh ho. Little girl here’s got spunk, I see,” Jefferson noted, nodding toward Belle.

Her eyes narrowed and she held the gun tighter, but she remained silent.

Gold pushed his leg off the chair and turned to face Belle, then began pacing around Jefferson’s chair.

“She won’t seem like such a little girl when she’s kicking your ass, Hatter,” he ground out, pausing and leaning over to mumble in his ear. “And she will do just that.”

This time Hatter offered a haughty laugh.

“Well, if her bite’s anything like her bark, I won’t be too concerned.”

She drowned out anymore of Hatter’s smart-ass remarks and imagined she was back in DC, back in the gym, her music blaring and thoughts focused only on her goal.

She marched forward and swung her arm around Hatter’s neck, the barrel of the gun pressing into his skin and choking him.

“I’d watch it if I were you,” she said harshly. “This way be my first mission, but I’ve never been above giving an asshole like you what he deserves. Are we clear?”

She released him roughly and strode back around the chair, coming to stand next to Gold, who she caught staring at her with a look of pleasant surprise in his eyes.

“Crystal, sweetheart,” Jefferson ground out, stretching his neck in discomfort.  

“Let’s try this again,” Gold replied, stepping forward once again. “You wanna tell us where Zelena is?”

Hatter shrugged again.

“Not in particular. And I really don’t plan to. Because there’s one thing you seemed not to account for.”

Belle cocked her head in confusion, gun still held tightly in her hand.

“And what’s that?” she asked.

Jefferson just smirked at her and shouted out, “RABBITS!”

Like clockwork, two masked men came flying down from the rafters at Jefferson’s command, one slicing through the tough rope that withheld Jefferson and then both of them holding one gun in each hand, trained on Belle and Gold’s heads.

“Let’s see how tough you really are, sweetheart,” Jefferson remarked, taking one gun out of one minion’s hand, allowing Jefferson’s employee to hold onto Gold.

Belle watched in silence, poising her gun at Jefferson once again, the bile rising up in her stomach as one minion held Gold at gunpoint and the other held him with his hands behind his back.

She had to stay strong. Gold didn’t appear worried. He was the kind of man who relished danger and had made it out of countless situations similar to this. They’d be fine. Surely he had a plan. And surely she could do this. Surely, they could do this.

“Rabbits?” Belle asked with a haughty chuckle, trying desperately to hide her fear in the best way she knew how—her sass. Her mind. “In Wonderland? Do I need to look out for Alice? Seriously—Fuck—oof—“

She was on the ground before she knew what had hit her, pain stinging her temple where Jefferson had just backhanded her and knocked her down.

Belle could feel a stream of blood trickling down her face and quick nausea rush over her from the combination of the blow and the way Gold was wrestling against the confines of the Rabbits when he saw her fall to the ground. This wasn’t going to end well. She reached out around on the ground for her gun, which she must have dropped sometime in the last minute (presumably when she was being knocked over) and only felt cold, damp concrete.

And then she saw the glistening metal of her gun securely under Hatter’s boot.

“Not so tough without a weapon, are you?”

“Belle!” Gold was calling out to her, still straining against the hold of the man holding him as much as he could.

Jefferson just stared down at her, a maniacal gleam in his eyes as he held the gun in his hands toward her skull. Belle’s hand brushed against her belt, feeling something… _Oh._

Her backup gun.

Without thinking, she whipped it out and cocked it up at Jefferson, fire in her eyes.

“Careful, Hatter,” Belle replied calmly. “You don’t want to shoot me. Might cause my body to tense up, including the hand on this gun… Might cause me to pull the trigger. You don’t want that, do you?”

Jefferson watched her with intrigue and then kicked the gun under his feet away and put his arms down against his sides.

“I like you… What was it, Belle? Tell you what. You surrender now, and I think we could make you a great agent.”

She gritted her teeth and sucked in a deep breath through her nose as it dawned on her what he was suggesting.

“I would rather die here than have that be my fate,” she whispered hoarsely.

Hatter shrugged.

“Well, suit yourself. But you’ll have to wait your turn. I think I’d much rather have my fun with Mr. Gold over here first. Might be fun to make you watch.”

Hatter nodded to the man holding his guns at Gold, and he placed them both back in their holsters, all while making his way over to Belle to hold her back. The minion reached out for Belle but never quite made it to her. The next thing they all knew, the Rabbit was laying prostrate on the ground, an arrow in his chest.

Belle peered up to see Clint on the upper level balcony, another arrow poised to strike.

Jefferson looked up as well, guns pointed toward Clint.

Gold took the opportunity to dig his heel into the foot of the Rabbit holding him, twisting the man and slamming him into the ground. At the noise, Jefferson whirled back around to Gold, who stood stock still with his hands up.

“Gold!” Belle cried out, and she heard a noise from above as Clint and Natasha had both whirled around to hold off other Rabbits who had come swarming in.

 “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Gold,” Hatter warned. “I’ll just shoot you and then your little girlfriend too.”

Belle saw Gold’s jaw clench at the world _girlfriend,_ and her partner bitterly bit back, “She’s not my girlfriend. Why do people always assume that male and female partners—“

Belle cocked her gun at Jefferson once again, hands shaking just the slightest bit and annoyed that Gold would pick right now to discuss all of the dating within SHIELD and the possibility of Belle being his girlfriend.

Even more annoyed that he was acting like they had all the time in the world and would make it out of this without any scrapes when he was being held at gunpoint.

“Gold, not the time to start a debate with the enemy.”

Belle watched as Gold gritted his teeth, the perfect picture of eerie calm even staring down the barrel of a gun.

“You don’t lay a hand on her,” he growled. “You understand me?”

Jefferson cocked the gun at Gold’s head, slowly waltzing closer and closer to him.

Belle’s hands shook as they both held her gun threateningly at Jefferson, who seemed unfazed by the young agent.

So she gave him a reason to be.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, re-centering herself, focusing in… and then pressing her finger against the trigger.

The bullet struck Jefferson’s hand, his gun flying out of his grasp as the bullet ripped through his muscles.

He let out an angry yell, the bloodied hand resting against his side as he reached with the opposite hand for one of the now lifeless Rabbits’ guns.

The time for trying to reason with Hatter had long passed. Her partner was in danger. Her life was in danger, and just as soon as Hatter’s scream ripped from his lips and he reached for another weapon, Belle truly found her emotion.

Devotion—to Gold, as her partner and as her friend.  

One more bullet exploded from the barrel at Belle’s command, and for the second time in as many days, she discovered the meaning of deafening silence.  

Jefferson’s body thrashed as the shot tore through him, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

The twisting in her stomach from moments prior, when she was fearful and uncertain of how the scene was about to play out, refused to go away, coiling further and deeper as she looked on in horror.

Her breathing labored, and her hands shook even more until she finally dropped the gun on the cold hard ground, unable to tear her eyes from the spot where Jefferson’s body lay.

Belle could hear Gold calling out her name, but the ringing of the gunshot in her ears was too much and drowned him out even as he came closer and closer, finally resting a hand on her shoulder.

She jumped at his touch and whirled around quickly, panicking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was all she could think to say. Sorry for killing the enemy. _Sorry for helping you out._ It sounded so stupid in her mind but so logical out loud, and she didn’t know what else to say…

“I... I know… I’m sorry.”

She barely met his eyes, which were, much to her surprise, full of understanding. But still, Belle’s lip quivered and her body shook as her eyes darted back from Gold to the gun on the ground and to Jefferson’s lifeless body.

She’d ripped the very life out of someone. Ended a life. Regardless of who it was. Jefferson Hatter was still a human.

She felt Gold reach out and gently squeeze her shoulder again, and without thinking, she fell into him. Her arms wrapped around his back and shoulders, and she clung tightly, burying her nose in the middle of his chest and willing herself not to cry by holding onto Gold with a fierce grip.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Belle,” he whispered, gently holding her close to him. “You did well. We’re okay.”

And then she was pulling away from him again because his arms were too damn comfortable and too damn warm and now was not the time to fall prey to those feelings. Not now and maybe not ever, depending on if the twisting in her gut ever stopped. (It felt like it never would.)

“I’m so sorry…” she mumbled again.

Gold gripped her shoulders and bent down to her eye level to force her to look at him.

“Belle…,” he whispered when she refused to meet his gaze.

She gasped when she felt a hand tenderly cup her cheek and tilt her face up, and for a moment, the masks between them were completely gone, both laid bare. She was staring at him like a flighty animal, and he was staring back with gratitude and empathy and…something so deep and raw that she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

_Not now. Not now. Not now._

“Belle, you saved my life.”

She stepped out of his reach again, hearing quick footsteps and then the voices of Clint and Natasha calling out to them. Belle hugged her arms around herself, shaking her head.

 “But I _killed_ our source of information.”

Natasha and Clint pulled up beside them, peering over at Jefferson’s body on the floor.

“Hell of a shot, French,” Clint remarked.

Again, Belle shook her head.

“You did the right thing,” Natasha responded. “You save your partner before you save the enemy, Belle. There’s still plenty of info we can glean from this place, and I’m sure Hatter has other minions around here somewhere.”

“How did you know—“

“We were right outside the whole time. Kept any minions out—unfortunately not the ones that came from up there right away.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Clint piped up, trying to make light of the situation.

The drive back to the hotel was mostly silent save for Clint and Natasha’s bantering, mostly about Clint’s incessant need for food—he’d been complaining that he was hungry ever since they got into the car.

Once they arrived back at the hotel, Belle doing her best to dissuade any suspicion from the four of them by covering the scrapes on her face as well as she could with the hood of her jacket. The four rode up to their floor on the elevator together, the two pairs splitting when they arrived to go to their respective rooms.

Belle didn’t say a word as Gold led them down the hallway. Still didn’t say anything when he removed the room key from his pocket. And still didn’t say anything when he opened the door for her and allowed her inside.

“Thank you.”

Belle tilted her head up to see Gold watching her.

“I said, thank you,” he repeated.

She pursed her lips and for what seemed like the millionth time that night, wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“I’m no hero,” she mumbled. “Don’t thank me. Just part of the job.”

“You were brave today. You handled that way better than I would have at this stage.”

Belle averted her eyes and pretended that her shoes were much more interesting than the man in front of her.

And the silence wore on.

“You’re a hell of an agent, Belle.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, still staring at the ground.

Belle could feel his eyes on her, roving over her half-hidden face, maybe trying to get a sense of how she was feeling or trying to see how badly she’d been hurt.

He took a step forward, placing the knuckle of his forefinger under her chin and tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

And again, she was laid bare. All the ugly cuts and bruises on her face and the terrified look in her eyes.

He gave her a weak smile and softly asked, “At least let me try to return the favor by getting you cleaned up a little?”

She nodded and allowed Gold to lead the way to the couch, and he started to tend to her wounds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4662 words later, here it is... I am so, so sorry this took forever. Life has been crazy (I love it, but its crazy), so time to write for pleasure has been few and far between. But it's here now. Thank you so much for the patience and the love and feedback! It's amazing. I hope you enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> Leave kudos and comments below!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's basically a big Rumbelle fluff fest. For the most part.

**Agents of Storybrooke**  

Chapter Nine  
\--

 

Belle took a seat on the couch while Gold walked over to his luggage, rummaging through a bag for a first-aid kit.  

She sat silently on the couch, staring down at the skinned heels of her hands, the little scrapes and bruises along her arms, and the dried blood on her knuckles that had come from wiping at the gash on her face.

He came back shortly after, preparing a small pad of gauze.

“Is this the part where you stare into my eyes and tell me this might sting a little?” she quipped.

Gold peered up suddenly, utterly confused, and she swore he stopped breathing for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

She just rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Isn’t that how it always goes in the movies?” she asked, shrugging.

He paused, considering her question.

“Yes,” he laughed nervously. “I suppose.”

It wasn’t really a time to be cracking jokes, but Belle desperately tried to keep her mind moving forward. In the present moment. Focused on the gauze and the stinging in her skin from all the superficial injuries. Focused on the aching in her joints from all the twisting and punching.

She didn’t allow herself to focus on the ever-present ache in the pit of her stomach. Covered her ears from the replaying of the sound of bullets erupting from her gun. Regina had warned her from the start that this would not be easy. That she shouldn’t expect someone to hold her when she cried.

And now was not the time to break down.

“Well then,” Gold’s voice broke her from her silent concentration. “Just a warning, in all seriousness. This might sting a little bit.”

She nodded quickly, allowing him to tilt her chin up the slightest bit, and Belle decided it was probably best for her to put all emotion on lock down.

So she didn’t allow herself to focus on how it felt when he gently brushed her hair out of her face to press the gauze against her forehead.

She jumped back at the pain that came from the contact.

“Ahhh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She sighed.

“It’s fine. Just wasn’t quite ready for it I guess. I’m good now.”

His hand tenderly reached up again to brush stray brunette flyaways out of her face, and she shivered at the soft contact.

And then the gauze connected with her forehead again and she was flinching away.

“Bloody hell, what are you using?” she asked as she steeled herself for the next stinging that was to accompany the gauze pad.

“Just regular antiseptic,” he replied, dabbing at a small scrape on her cheek and then reaching for one of her hands to clean that up. “I’m almost done. Just hold still.”

He gently dabbed the gauze over her other hand and then crumpled up the gauze pad, reaching back to produce a small bandage, which he removed from the wrapping and placed on her forehead over the one small gash that was still bleeding a little.

“There,” he punctuated his words by pressing the edges of the bandage against her forehead to make sure it stuck. “All better now.”

He gave her a wry smile and then turned away from her, replacing the contents of the first-aid kit. And completely missing the awestruck smile that had crossed Belle’s face in the meantime. She loved this tender side of him, and she hated herself for enjoying it so much. Almost hated that it was so easy for him to take her mind off of everything. As great as a purpose that served, she wished that literally anything else would distract her.

But with only the two of them in a hotel suite in Amsterdam, Belle didn’t have many options.

“Thank you, Gold,” she mumbled.

That was safe. Do the kind thing and thank him for being a good partner. And make an excuse to go to sleep or something. Even if she couldn’t fathom the images she’d see when she closed her eyes. If she could ever close her eyes again.

“Robert,” she heard him say as he walked over to the kitchen area.

“I’m sorry?”

“You saved my life,” he continued, turning around to face her. “I think you’re allowed to call me Robert now.”

Well that wasn’t safe.

Her heart leapt, and Belle had to purse her lips to fight off the broad smile that was taking over her face. He trusted her. Trusted her with his life, even. And it made her heart beat in double time and her stomach flutter and if this was the only way she was going to distract her, Belle figured maybe she may as well enjoy it.

“What about Bobby?” she added jokingly.

He pulled a face and shook his head.

“Don’t push your luck, French.”

She laughed. It was dangerous to continue this playful banter, Belle knew. Because she was wishfully thinking that this banter would evolve into flirting and flirting into declarations of feelings and that was probably the most ridiculous idea that she had ever had.

She may had saved Gold’s life today, but certainly she was still basically a child in his eyes. And these feelings, whether she acknowledged them or not, would probably not get her anywhere. Would probably never be reciprocated. As much as his little gestures were giving her bits and pieces of hope.

“It’s okay. I like Robert better I think,” she replied, testing his first name on her lips.  

“Robert,” she called as he reached for the refrigerator door and opened it.

“Yes?”

The smart choice would to be to just pretend to go to bed and quit indulging her feelings. But more than anything, Belle just wanted to feel wanted and appreciated, even if it just was as a friend. And decided to take a leap and pray that he’d be willing to open up even more.

“This might be pushing my luck as well, but do you remember several weeks ago when you said you’d eventually tell me your story?”

He disappeared behind the fridge door and reappeared hoisting a bottle of wine.

“Might need some of this first.”

She cocked her head, smiling.

“When did you get that?”

He shrugged and searched for something to put the wine in—and she saw him smile in delight when he found two wine glasses hiding in a small cabinet. It was a fancy hotel suite. Of course there were wine glasses.

“Yesterday. There’s nothing I like better than unwinding with a bottle of wine after a mission.”

“That seems very…”

“Out of character?” he finished, pouring two glasses and handing her one.

“I was going to say relaxing, which, now that you mention it, it isn’t like you at all.”

“Are you saying I wear you out, Agent French?” he challenged, quirking his eyebrow.

She theatrically scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“You’re exhausting.”

He feigned a hurt look on his face and placed his hand over his heart as a little giggle escaped from Belle’s lips.

A giggle. In spite of everything, he was reducing her to _giggles_. She was so out of her depth.

“Well,” Robert said, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Then maybe some wine will help take the edge off.”

He offered her a glass, and she took it, both of them taking a sip. They sat in silence for a few moments as Belle stared down at the red liquid in her glass.

She took another sip and then said, “Yes, and I believe you also owe me a story, Robert.”

His lips curved into a smile, and he nodded.

“That I do.”

“So how did you end up so dark and brooding?”

He let out a small laugh, took another sip of his wine and turned to face her.

“Well, I was born in Glasgow, Scotland. My family wasn’t terribly poor but not quite middle class either. Lucky for them, I was intelligent—“

“And pity for them that you were so modest too,” she shot back.

“Do you want to hear this story or not?”

Belle’s eyebrows shot up in challenge, and then she tipped back her glass and let all the wine in her glass go smoothly down her throat. She set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them with a “clink,” and she replied, “There. Now I think I’m ready for this story.”

He grinned. Flat out grinned at her like she was the most wonderful thing he’d laid eyes on. And maybe the wine was somehow already going straight to her head, or maybe there was some hope that he liked her.

“Anyway, I had a great love for literature as a boy and went to St. Andrews and got an English degree for my undergrad—“

She reached out and grabbed his knee.

“You studied English, too?”

He flinched under her touch but quickly recovered and retorted, “I’m never going to get through this, am I?”

Realizing her hand was still resting on his knee, Belle jerked back with a slight blush. What was she, a bloody teenager?

“No, it’s just… I’m sorry—I didn’t know you studied English, and I’m just really surprised that this hasn’t come up yet.”

Gold cleared his throat and then recited in the deepest Scottish brogue he could muster,

“But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,  
In proving foresight may be vain;  
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men  
Gang aft agley,  
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,  
For promis'd joy!”

If Belle hadn’t been teetering on falling in love with him before, she was hopeless now.

“Quoting Burns to try to impress me?”

He shrugged.

“If you must flatter yourself by thinking I’m wanting to impress you.”

Her stomach dropped a bit when he said it, and certainly her face must have too, because the stern look on his face quickly morphed into a cheeky grin. Sarcasm. The bastard was being sarcastic. She took one of the pillows behind her and threw it at his head, knocking him in the nose.

“You’re an ass.”

The pillow fell from his face and into his lap, and he lobbed it back at her, Belle putting her hands up to shield her face. It fell in the middle of them, and Belle snatched the pillow up again and hugged it to her chest, leaning against the back of the couch once again, smiling all the while.

“So what did you do after you graduated?”

“Why I applied for a Rhodes Scholarship, of course. I thought I was God’s gift to mankind at this point in my life. So I went off to Oxford, and that’s where I met Regina Mills. She came from a line of agents—her evil sister, so to speak, Zelena, of course ending up in HYDRA. And then there was Cora. But surprisingly, Regina was the nicest of all three. Shocking I know. Much like you, Belle, she was planning to get her degree from Oxford and then join the Academy. We had several classes together, and when she discovered how intelligent I was, discovered I spent most of the sparing free time I had in the gym kickboxing, she asked if I had any interest in SHIELD.”

“And so then you ended up at SHIELD and lived happily ever after, right?”

“Not quite. I turned it down. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life but all the physical activity I did was just for hobby, and I never saw myself using an English degree from Oxford to fight crime. But then I finished my time at Oxford and had no idea what to do with my life.”

“So you figured you’d give it a shot.”

“I figured I had nothing to lose.”

Belle smiled at that, stunned that one of SHIELD’s most decorated agents had come from such unlikely circumstances and had started so begrudging.

“…And when I came to SHIELD, my original partner was an older agent by the name of Zoso. Two years into my time, he was killed. And then I started working with Natasha and Clint. Not long after, Neal came along.”

“You know,” Belle interrupted. “I haven’t heard that story from your point of view.”

He sighed.

“Well, I know that Natasha relayed the brief summary to you, and that’s really all there is to it. And then Neal got hurt, and I blamed myself. I threw myself into the job. Didn’t let anyone close to me aside from those who already were—Nolan, Barton, Romanoff, Regina. And I shut Neal out because I was an ass. I didn’t want to face the consequences and instead of repairing out friendship, I just let it die. So for seven years, I went solo or worked with Natasha and Clint. For the past two years, Regina needled me about taking on someone from the Academy as a partner. And I said no for a while until I ran out of reasons to.”

“And what made you run out of reasons?”

He smirked at that, taking another sip of wine.

“She told me to take one of the new agents or get benched.”

Belle laughed, unsurprised at Regina’s abrasive request.

“And here I was expecting some sort of wise counsel she gave you,” Belle quipped.

He returned her smile and replied, “Nope. Just Regina pulling rank and knowing I had to get my head out of my ass. And then you came along.”

“And then I came along. And made your life hell, I’m sure.”

The small smile on his face faded, and there was that weird look that she’d seen earlier in the day. But she couldn’t quite place it. And when he spoke, his voice came out much lower than she was used to hearing.

“You know that’s not the case at all, Belle.”

_Oh._

And that set her mind going—maybe she was wrong. Maybe he did have feelings for her. Or maybe he was just trying to be nice and comfort her. Or maybe he’d been fighting feelings for her like she’d been for him. Or maybe—

She was staring at his lips. And when her eyes flicked back up to his, she’d realized she’d been caught. But the air was thicker. His eyes were darker. His breathing just a little bit heavier.

So her eyes found his lips again, and she scooted just the smallest bit closer, beckoning him, begging him to make a move in case she had completely misread the situation.

And there they got caught in a stalemate. He wasn’t moving, and neither was she, both waiting out the other as the seconds ticked by. Belle tried to speak but nothing would come out, and she finally forced herself to shut her mouth and look up into Robert’s eyes.

And he started to lean in.

And then she heard a sickening crack.

Belle’s heart pounded even harder as she leapt from the couch and bumped into the coffee table, knocking over both of their wine glasses, Robert’s falling and spilling all over the carpet, staining it a deep red-purple.

As if she didn’t have enough imagery of blood in her head already.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Belle yelled, racing to the counter and reaching for her gun.

Robert followed after her, his hands reaching for her shoulders and rubbing up and down her arms.

“Hey,” he said, leaning down and trying to get her to look at him. “We’re fine. It was a bird.”

“The hell do you mean it was a bird? Did you hear that sound?” Belle was shaking, and she couldn’t stop. He took the gun from her hands and laid it back on the counter.

He was fighting a smile, and for the life of her, Belle could not understand why. She was scared shitless.

“A bird flew into the window, Belle. It was nothing.”

She was panting, beads of sweat erupting from her skin, and suddenly everything just felt _so stuffy._

“You’re sure?”

He steered her over to the glass doors that led out to a small balcony, and there was a small bird, either dead or knocked out cold, lying on the concrete ground of the little deck.

Belle let out a heavy sigh, briskly walking away and back over to the couch.

She’d killed a man. The man she couldn’t stop thinking about almost kissed her. And she was losing her mind.

It was too much for her to deal with in one week, let alone in the past twelve hours.

He’d been leaning in to kiss her… And a bird ruined it. A fucking bird crashing into the window. That she thought was a gunshot.

Belle felt the couch dip beneath her. Robert had come to sit beside her once again. But this time, instead of assuming their position of relaxing against the back of the couch, comfortable and distracted from life, they were both on the edge. And silent.

“Are you okay?” he suddenly asked.

“I’ve been trying to use humor to deflect all afternoon,” she mumbled.

He nodded. Belle didn’t have to say anymore. He just seemed to know what she was talking about.

She continued, “But I suppose giving away my methods doesn’t do anything to keep you from knowing how I really feel, right?”

Belle could feel her eyes on him but kept her eyes trained on the wine-stained carpet in front of them. She made no move to get up and clean it. It was pointless. The blood had been spilled. The wine had been spilled. There was no taking it back. So she just sat in silence. 

"Do you remember when I told you that my mom died?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, I remember that," he murmured. 

“My mother was murdered when I was young. And knowing that I took a life…”

“Belle—“

She was shaking once again. Her eyes were welling up. And now there was no comfortable banter to run back to. 

“Robert, please. I know. Different circumstances completely but…”

Her voice cracked, and she quickly placed a hand over her mouth to muffle any sobs that may have escaped. 

“I think I should just go to bed," she finally choked out. "I’m exhausted.”

He just nodded as she rose. Every muscle in Belle’s body felt stiff with anxiety and fear and frustration.

“Good night, Belle,” she heard him call out.

She stopped in her tracks, just before the bedroom door, but didn’t turn around.

“Good night, Gold.”

She regretted it the moment it came out of her mouth, the deliberate regression back to calling him by his last name. But it was only way to put the walls back up. 

The two of them seemed to be very alike in that regard. 

She tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

He did the same.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my goodness, y'all. Life has happened. Life has happened hard over the past month, and so I have not had many spare moments to devote to fanfiction. I apologize for that, and I hope this starts to make up for it. Hopefully with Thanksgiving break coming up, I'll have a little time. Thanks for holding on for the slow burn. Just a few more chapters and you'll get some pay-off. I promise. ;) 
> 
> Kudos, comment, etc below and let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zelena has a terrible plot, the girls go out to the bar, and Belle and Gold have a sleepover. 
> 
> A/N: I am so sorry this took literally like a month, but yay that my semester is finally over. Also, since it took so long, take comfort in knowing that this chapter is exactly 6000 words long. I really liked writing this one.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Ten

\--

 

“What the hell do you mean he’s dead?”

Belle grit her teeth and tensed as Regina glared daggers at her and the rest of her team. 

She shrugged and shook her head. There was nothing she could do that could change that fact. She’d made a call. She already felt guilty enough about it. She certainly didn’t need Regina making her feel worse.

“He’s dead. I shot him.”

Her resoluteness only seemed to make Regina glare at her harder—if that was even possible.

“Agent French, what in the world could possibly possess you to want to do that?”

Belle shifted uncomfortably, and Clint wasted no time coming to her defense.

“French saved Gold’s life. She had to do it.”

Regina’s eyes darted from Clint to Belle, and then back to Clint, and then over to Gold, who stood proudly in one of his tailored suits, like he was almost entertained by Regina’s rage.

Regina sighed. Surely she couldn’t hate Belle for keeping one of their greatest agents alive.  

“Well did you at least glean the place for any information?”

“Yes, Regina,” Gold replied coolly. “We did.”

 “And?” Director Fury interjected.

“We found this,” Natasha supplied. She held up the file she and Clint had found while canvassing the place, letting Regina take it from her and open it, her and Fury scanning their eyes over the papers.

The first sheet in the file was a blueprint of a large reception hall in Storybrooke—where Mary Margaret and David had planned to have their wedding reception in a couple months. The blueprint was dotted with X’s and circles in various spots, seeming to signal easy access points to the hall. Belle watched as Regina flipped through to the next one. Clint had shown them all the files already, and there was nothing new for her to see here, but she couldn’t help the foreboding feeling spread throughout the pit of her stomach. She knew what the files said, and Regina’s face only seemed to grow more stoic as she read on. She wouldn’t give any tells to how she was feeling, but surely Regina had to be feeling some sort of dread, even if it just was a small bit.

“Call Nolan and Blanchard,” Fury ordered. “Have them come in as soon as they can.”

“So what are we going to do?” Belle asked as Regina reached for her phone to call the agents.

 “We have three months until their wedding,” she said as she dialed. “We prepare. We see what else we can find.”

Fury nodded before adding, “You all are free to go for now. Thank you for debriefing.”

With little fanfare and no “good work, agents” or anything of the sort, leaving Belle craving some sort of acknowledgement that she’d done right by her team, the four of them exited in silence.

Clint and Gold led the group down the hallway, and Belle felt a hand tug on her arm as she walked behind them.

It was Natasha, who held Belle back for a moment to speak with her.

 “Look,” Natasha began, “I know that first missions can be incredibly difficult, and this one is no exception. What do you say you and I go for drinks at Bagelfire? Maybe invite Ruby and Emma?”

But Belle just shrugged, aloof and uninterested in being around anyone at the moment.

“I don’t know, Tasha.”

“Belle, I won’t push you. But I just want you to know that it can be really beneficial to talk about this with someone who understands very well where you’re coming from.”

She considered it for a moment.

Going out with her friends and talking may help her. Or, regardless of what they talked about, she could get her mind off of everything. Off of Jefferson. Off of the tune of bullets. Off of Gold.

Off of that awkward moment and that damned bird and the spilled wine.

“How does 8:30 sound?” Belle finally asked.

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”

Xx

Natasha, Ruby, and Emma sat around their high-top table at the bar, all three nursing different drinks. So far, Ruby had downed three shots and had been even more of a chatter box than usual.

 “…so I don’t really know what to do,” Ruby said, sighing. “I really like Dr. Whale but he doesn’t want to commit.”

 “The typical condition of men our age,” Emma muttered, tipping back her drink.

Ruby quirked an eyebrow and gave her friend a wan smile.

 “Well you sure seemed to have bagged a winner in Neal.”

Natasha joined in on Ruby’s chuckling, determined to embarrass the usually guarded Emma. And it worked.

 “Oh, look at that blush, Swan,” Tasha teased. “Red looks good on you.”

Emma became focused on the surface of the table before her, her blonde hair covering as much of her reddened cheeks as possible as she barked, “Shut up.”

Ruby shot Natasha a devious look, and the older agent knew that Ruby had only just begun on her assault on Emma’s personal life.

“You slept with him yet?”

Emma nearly choked on her drink as she had taken another sip as another method to hide her face from Ruby. This attempt only left her sputtering.

 “Ruby,” Natasha responded, trying to hush her friend. It was fun to rattle each other’s cages, but it was clear that Emma was getting very uncomfortable very quickly.

 “It’s been a few months! I feel like that’s okay to ask!” Ruby reasoned.

Natasha laughed into her glass before replying, “Yes, well your moral compass can be a little skewed sometimes.”

 “Hey!”

Emma cleared her throat, trying to eliminate any rising tension between everyone at the table.

“Guys, relax,” she finally said.

That didn’t stop Ruby from giving Emma the most expectant look as she patiently waited for her friend to answer the previous question.

 “You are not going to let this go, are you?” Emma asked with a roll of her eyes.

 “Is he good?” Ruby piped up.

This only caused Natasha to shoot a glare at Ruby, silently willing her friend to drop the subject if Emma refused to answer.

But Emma just shook her head and laughed, finally acquiescing to Ruby.

 “Yes,” she began. “It’s great. I’m happy, guys. I really am.”

Natasha smiled and offered an “I’m really happy for you, Emma,” while Ruby squealed uncontrollably, a few patrons of the bar shooting amused glances toward their table.

After a few more seconds of face-splitting grinning and clapping her hands, Ruby continued. “But speaking of sex—“

Sensing it was her turn to dish on her relationship with Clint, Natasha took the opportunity to cut her off before the conversation even began.

“Ruby,” she warned.

“No, really! Natasha, I gotta know… Did anything happen between Belle and Gold in Amsterdam?”

Natasha maintained a poker face and stared straight back at Ruby—nothing really did happen that she knew of, not aside from the single hotel room debacle and having to pretend to be a couple.

“Nope,” she finally replied, shrugging her shoulders.

 “You’re covering for them,” challenged Emma.

Natasha shrugged again before answering, “I’m not. I swear—nothing happened.”

Emma cocked an eyebrow and bore into Natasha. She knew Emma picked up on lies or half-truths very easily. And though what Natasha saw of the two of them really wasn’t anything important, she knew that Ruby and Emma were incredibly curious, regardless of whether or not it was all just a ruse.

 “So saving his life is nothing?” Emma asked.

 “Yeah, she saved his life. That’s what partners do, though—“

 “And interestingly enough, all the partners here end up dating,” Ruby added.

Emma smirked and said, “She has a point, Tasha.”

Her two friends watched her expectantly. On a mission, she could withhold information easily. In front of her friends, not so much. She sighed and hoped Belle wouldn’t kill her over telling them about what she’d seen.

 “Clint bought them one hotel room,” Natasha mumbled.

Emma had chosen the wrong moment to take a swig of her drink, and she twisted her head and spritzed beer all over the floor.

 “He did what?!”

Emma wiped her mouth apologetically and re-situated herself in her seat, waiting for Natasha to continue.

 “It was a suite and they had separate rooms—our cover was that we were two couples on a retreat together.”

 “Oh my god!” Ruby exclaimed.

 “So no. I don’t know if anything happened,” Natasha replied, effectively ending the conversation.

Ruby just rolled her eyes and picked up a different topic of conversation. Later, Natasha asked the two younger agents how training was going, about their time at Storybrooke, how their apartment was…

Emma suddenly interrupted, glancing down at the clock on her phone.

“Hey, Belle was supposed to meet us here a half hour ago.”

Ruby seemed genuinely surprised and dug around in her purse to retrieve her phone as well, seeing that it was about nine o’ clock and saying, “Oh wow, I hadn’t even seen the time. Has she texted either of you?”

Emma peered at her messages, and all she had was two from Neal.

“No. We should call her.”

Natasha picked up her phone and immediately went to dialing Belle’s number. It rang, and rang…

_Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of Belle Fre…_

Natasha ended the call to try again only to have the same results.

“She’s not picking up.”

“Shit, that’s not like her at all,” Ruby said, her face twisting with concern. “Where do you think she is?”

“We should call Gold,” Emma suggested.

“Emma—“

“No, I’m not joking. Outside of us, who else would know where she is most of the time? Her partner. We should call him.”

Natasha scrolled through her contacts to find ‘Robert Gold,’ and pressed the call button.

She heard a Scottish brogue after two rings.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Agent Romanoff?”

 _Sounds arrogant and a little abrasive as usual,_ she thought.

“Do you know where Belle is?” Natasha asked without prelude.

There was a pause on the line. Perhaps he was trying to remember when was the last time he saw Belle, or even more likely, why was Natasha asking him this in the first place.

“No,” he answered simply.

Another pause before he added—a hint of worry in his voice, she noticed, “What’s going on?”

“She was supposed to meet me, Ruby, and Emma at Bagelfire over a half an hour ago. She won’t pick up her phone.”

More silence and then a sigh.

“No, I haven’t seen her since earlier at the office. When’s the last you heard from her?”

Natasha pursed her lips and tried to rack her brain for reasons why she was late or where Belle could be.

“Same,” she answered. “She may have just forgotten and fallen asleep.”

Another sigh from Gold and then, “No. She doesn’t forget things like that.”

In any other circumstances, Natasha would have made a snide comment about how worried he seemed to find his partner. Instead, she just made note that clearly Belle French was cracking the tough soldier’s armor.

“See that’s what I thought, but she is human, Gold…”

“No,” he interrupted. “That’s not like her.”

“She could be at her apartment? Or maybe at the gym?” Natasha suggested.

He didn’t answer, and instead Natasha just heard rustling around on the other line and quick footsteps.

 “Gold, what are you doing?” she finally asked after she heard what sounded like the closing of a door.

“I’m going to go find her.”

The line went dead, and Natasha was left wondering just what was going on between the two of them.

Xx

_I’m speeding up_

She threw a powerful kick at the bag in front of her.

_and this is the red,_

_orange,_

_yellow flicker beat_

Two more punches.

_sparking up my heart._

Belle lost all rhythm and drowned out the music behind her, nothing but bass reaching her ears. Her breathing labored as she hit harder and harder, her technique becoming more sloppy with each passing punch. Her arms were burning from the torrid pace she was keeping, but she’d do anything to focus simply on the sensation.

No clocks. No people. No coherent thought stream.

No problems.

Belle closed her eyes to land another heavy punch against the bag as her mind began to wander—what time was it, anyway? Surely it couldn’t be that late—and then she closed her eyes as she made contact with the bag, and the first thing she saw was red. Blood everywhere.

Her eyes shot open as she wound up another punch, but the afterimage remained. And this time it wasn’t Jefferson laying on the ground.

It was Belle’s mother.

She bounced on the balls of her feet to shake herself out of her own mind, driving more quick hits until the bag was weaving back and forth from the amount of impact. She kept up with it and focused her eyes on nothing else but the movement of the bag.

But it wouldn’t leave her mind.

All she could see behind her eyes was this image that her sick brain had decided to make up just to torture her.

Belle let out a loud cry and swung hard at the bag, missing completely, her momentum taking her straight off her feet.

He collapsed against the bag, physically and emotionally spent, and then she slid down to the ground, crumpled on her knees.

A sob escaped her body, and she let go a deluge of tears she didn’t realize she’d been holding back.

She wasn’t cut out for this. She couldn’t do this. Not if every time something like this happened, she fell apart.

A few years ago, she may have gladly taken this quick escape route and quit right now—her papa would have to be disappointed and learn to deal with it. Not so anymore. She wasn’t in this for him anymore. She wanted to stay. She wanted this life.

Whether or not she could actually handle it had seemed to be an afterthought for the French family.

“Belle.”

She swore she heard a voice that sounded an awful lot like her partner calling out to her, but she’d been hallucinating so much in the past ten minutes that she kept her eyes shut and just kept crying.

“Belle, sweetheart.”

She was definitely having a delusion. She highly doubted that Gold would call her sweetheart.

But then Belle felt a firm hand on the bare skin of her arm.

_Oh._

Her eyes shot open at the contact to see a very worried Robert Gold crouched before her as the music from her phone continued to blare loudly all around them, his voice barely audible above it. He was dressed only in one of his silky dress shirts and pants, no tie or suit jacket, and it was odd to see him in such a state that was well…vulnerable for him.

But he wasn’t the one with tears streaming down his face, eyes likely puffy and red, and god, she probably looked like an absolutely wreck. At least maybe after this she wouldn’t have to worry about any lingering sexual tension between them after the awkward bird incident in Amsterdam. Surely such a revolting sight would drive him away.

Instead, he did the exact opposite and pulled her into his arms, holding her to him tightly as she rested her face in the space where his shoulder met his neck.

Another sob wracked her body unexpectedly. Damn tears.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here, okay?”

She nodded weakly against him.  

He pulled away from her, leaving her side only to go and remove her phone from the docking station and cut the loud music that filled the room, leaving them both in eerie silence. He brought her the small bag she’d brought with her and handed it to her.

But Belle refused to move. She seemed to be in a near catatonic state, just exhausted with every aspect of her life.

Cue the tears once again.

Gold kneeled down beside her immediately, and she crumbled into his arms. Every part of her was screaming out to push him away and just walk away and leave him here, assure him somehow that she’d be okay.

She didn’t have the strength to do so. So she just cried and cried into her partner’s arms until she felt one of the arms holding her against him leave her back and wrap around underneath her knees. He braced his other arm tighter around her, and instead of protesting, Belle just snaked her arms around his neck and let him carry her right out of the gym.

She kept her face buried in his shoulder until they reached his black Cadillac in the parking garage, making the whole trip in silence, and he artfully opened the passenger door with one hand while still clutching her close to him. He gently placed her in the passenger’s seat, and only when he came to sit beside her on the driver’s side did he finally speak.

“Okay, what’s your address?”

Belle silently buckled her seatbelt and stared at her hands in her lap, shaking her head.

“Don’t wanna go home,” she muttered, voice cracking.

She didn’t. She could call Ruby, Emma, and Natasha and tell them she was okay, but she didn’t want to talk to them. It was bad enough having to let Gold see her this way, and though her friends had been there for her through so much, she didn’t want to put them through this when Emma and Ruby were so looking forward to getting into the field.

Having nightmares about a first mission would certainly put a damper on that.

She heard Gold sigh and say, “Well, then where…”

That was true. It was almost 9:30, and Belle certainly didn’t feel like being around people and going out somewhere. Unless Gold took them to his house…

It was a stupid idea, and in her current state, Belle wondered if it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. She’d never been one to throw herself into a man’s arms for comfort, but this… this was different. She’d been constantly at war since Gold had shown up with whether or not to let him help her. He knew what she was going through, and he seemed more than willing to listen. But it only put one more chip in her armor. And judging by how he’d been acting around her lately, it’d probably put one more chip in his.

The likelihood that he could feel the same way about her was exhilarating and terrifying—he’d almost kissed her. Surely there was some level of feelings there for her.

Or maybe he was just lonely.

Regardless, he’d probably be too shy to even bother trying anything. Gold was confident  around everyone else in the agency, but he’d often turn into a scared little boy around Belle.

Which made her that much more unnerved.

_Fuck it._

“Let’s just go to your house,” she muttered. “I don’t know where else there is to go.”

She refused to make eye contact with him, but she could venture a guess that he was likely staring at her, halfway between starting the car and not questioning it and being scared to death.

“Belle…”

She shook her head and finally dared to look at him.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I just don’t want to be by myself right now.”

It was true. And despite the tension that had only seemed to thicken as he’d scooped her into his arms, and what that could mean, Gold was also her partner and her friend. And he made her happy. At the end of the day, he was a more experienced agent who surely had advice on how to deal with this.

“Belle, your friends are worried sick about you and waiting for you at the bar. Why don’t I take you there?”

It was clear that he was having the same misgivings as her.

“Please, Robert, I just need to be somewhere quieter.”

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and he sighed, unsure of what to do next.

“You probably have better alcohol there anyway,” Belle added.

She smirked and he gave her a weak smile in return. She had no intention of drinking herself into oblivion—just a drink or two to take the edge off.

“Okay,” he finally said.  

He turned the key, and the car roared to life. The rest of the trip was made in relative silence, the only noise being the tapping of Belle’s thumbs on her phone to let her friends know that she was okay.

They’d been driving for a good twenty minutes, finally reaching a residential area and pulling up to a large… was his house pink?

“Interesting color scheme,” Belle commented, sniffling away any remaining emotion as she let herself out of the car and followed him to the porch.

He laughed lightly and responded, “Got an excellent deal on it. It’s rather large, but I like it.”

She followed him into the kitchen where he opened up a cabinet full of liquor, turning to her and asking, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

He nodded, removing a large bottle from the cabinet and opening another to grab two glasses.

“Whiskey okay?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

Belle took a seat on the couch while he poured them both a drink, wringing her hands nervously as she sat still. Five and a half months ago, if she knew she’d be casually sitting in the living room of one of the most decorated agents in SHIELD history, having a drink as he comforted her, Belle would have scoffed in disbelief. But five and a half months later, and he wasn’t some larger-than-life figure. Just her partner.

She still couldn’t quite decide when he’d stopped being a cold-hearted bastard and when he’d started being a caring man who was a little bit too guarded.

He joined her on the couch, seated far on the other end. Robert handed her a drink, and they sat in silence, sipping their liquor slowly.

It was Gold who spoke first.

“Look, I don’t mean to pry—“

“I just keep thinking about my mom,” she interrupted.

Might as well come right out and say it, she figured. If she’d come here looking for some sort of advice—and she had—she was going to have to be honest. No matter how much she hated talking about the details of her mother’s death.

Gold put his drink down and turned to face her.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Belle pursed her lips and nodded in appreciation. There wasn’t much else for him to say, she knew. All he could do was listen.

“I was eight years old when she was killed,” she began. “My father had been consulting with SHIELD for a few months at the time. He was helping Stark Industries with their R&D department long distance and was working on some project he was incredibly excited about. And then a rival company got wind of what they were doing and wanted the technology or themselves.”

“HYDRA?”

Belle shook her head and sighed.

“No. I’m not even sure who it was, honestly. But they took my mom hostage and threatened to kill her if Stark Industries and my father didn’t give up the information. SHIELD tried their best to…”

“I know,” he interrupted.

She stared up from where her eyes had been fixed on the ground, met with Robert’s somber look.

“I’ve been at SHIELD almost twenty years. You’re 26, so it would have happened 18 years ago. I was on the reinforcements squad for that mission. That’s where my first partner was killed. So I remember it happening. I didn’t even realize…”

Belle felt a burning sensation in her neck as she tried to keep the lump in her throat down. No more tears, French. No more.

“Wow,” she finally said, her voice shaking and her eyes watering again.

“Belle, I’m so sorry.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, and the tears in her watery eyes spilled over again. She wasn’t mad at him. It wasn’t his fault. But the fact that he’d been there, been involved, for some reason it made her that much more emotional and that much more attached to him.

He definitely understood how she was feeling.

Better than she ever realized.

“I remember being so upset about Zoso,” he continued. “And even more upset that we lost more innocent lives. We willingly put ourselves in the line of fire but others, like your mother… It’s tragic. And I hate it. And I’m sorry, Belle.”

She placed a shaky hand over the one holding onto hers.

“Hey, no,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’s not your fault. You were on reinforcements. You weren’t even there. It’s fine, really.”

“Belle…”

He trailed off, not knowing what else to say and choosing instead just to comfort her with a gentle squeeze of his hand, encouraging her to continue talking.

She didn’t want to say it. It was a stupid thought that had been plaguing her since Amsterdam, the reason she couldn’t sleep. But it was what kept her up at night nonetheless.

“But now I just feel…,” her voice cracked. “I feel like I’m no better than those monsters who murdered her.”

He pulled his hand away from hers, and Belle reluctantly let go, but he scooted a bit closer and leaned his hands on knees and said, “You and I, Belle. We tend to martyr ourselves for things that really aren’t our fault.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and dared not to look at him and just listen as she willed the tears to subside.

“I’m not saying I’m glad that your mother died in such a brutal way. But think about it. It was a catalyst for you to end up here. And I know that’s no consolation. Some experiences seem so meaningless for so long, but there always comes a time when we can look back on it and see how it shaped us—for better or for worse. Something I always told Neal was that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it; forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you wanna call it…And all I’ve seen you do is continue to fight to better yourself. And maybe that’s part of the design.”

Belle let out another heavy sigh.

“Well, you didn’t know me when I was younger.”

“No. I didn’t.”

They both sat silently for a few moments, and Belle decided she was going to need more of her drink before she went on.

“So many nights I spent by myself just crying myself out all alone. I didn’t have any siblings—just me and my father in Storybrooke. And he’s a good dad, he is. But he made himself so emotionally unavailable in regards to anything that had to do with Mom. I had plenty of friends and ended up meeting Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret, but… I just felt empty for the longest time. And I let her death bury me for the longest time.”

“You can’t be perfect, Belle,” he replied. “It’s okay to grieve.”

Belle sniffled again, wiping the remnants of tears away from the corners of her eyes, giving one last deep breath and hopefully, _hopefully,_ her tears would finally stop.

“I just didn’t want to seem like I was weak, you know?”

She finally peered up at him and saw his mouth drop open a little bit and his eyes full of…affection. His voice came out much lower than she was expecting when he finally replied.

“You, Agent French, are the furthest thing from weak.”

Belle couldn’t ignore the warmth that fluttered in her stomach at his words. This man was going to be the death of her, and he seemed completely oblivious to it.

“I didn’t know ‘encouraging shoulder to cry on’ was in our job description,” she joked.

He gave her another sweet smile.

“It’s not.”

Belle gave him a tight-lipped smile and stared back down at the ground. The intensity of his gaze was too much for her, whether he meant to be looking at her that way or not.

“You’re not a monster, Belle,” she heard him say. “And I can’t make you see that. You have to, as bloody clichéd as it may be. You did what you had to do out there. Can’t say I’m disappointed.”

He took another sip of his drink before continuing.

“And I can’t speak for either of them, but I would imagine that both your mother and your father are incredibly proud of you.”

“Thank you, Gold.”

“I know this isn’t quite the same, but my dad left us when I was a wee boy. Never heard from him again. Could be dead for all I know.”

Belle smiled appreciatively. The fact that he was willing to try to empathize with her by sharing his hurts with her meant more to her than anything else he could do.  

“You failed to mention that in our last heart to heart,” she noted.

Belle saw him give a wan smile and shake his head.  She knew some sort of self-deprecation was coming.

“Yes, well I’ve found over time that the less I give to people, the more I still have when they inevitably screw me over.”

Ah, there it was.

She reached over and gave his knee an affectionate squeeze, willing him to look down at her.

“Thank you.”

She released his knee, and he stared at her almost quizzically, as if he couldn’t understand what she was thanking him for.

“For what?”

Belle swore that Gold was one of the most oblivious geniuses she had ever met.

“See, you don’t even realize what you’re doing,” she replied. “Thank you for opening up. Empathizing. You know, for the longest time, I’d heard so many stories about how accomplished you were. You seemed more a fable to me than anything, even after we’d met.”

He laughed and asked, “And now you see how much of a monster I am?”

Belle quirked an eyebrow and shook her head. He really didn’t see it, did he? He couldn’t see that he was actually likeable underneath the armored façade. She’d heard stories that he’d been a bit of a playboy in his first few years—she figured that was probably after Cora—but it seemed that that was just a cover. He clearly desired approval and love. And he was one of the most respected agents at SHIELD, and he still couldn’t see his worth.

“You’re not a monster. But this ‘you have to believe it yourself’ business is a two-way street. You’re a good man.”

He laughed again and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Well, I guess I can try.”

They were close enough now that their shoulders were about to touch, so he playfully leaned over and bumped against her.

“On the bright side, you have another few weeks until you have to worry about another mission.”

How was he so good at making her smile?

“Ahhh, but I do get to worry about the bloody ball they’re throwing in the new agents’ honor in a couple weeks,” she rejoined.

“Not much of a dancer, Belle?”

And why did she get so giddy inside when he called her by her given name?

“What?” he finally asked after she remained silent for a beat too long.

“Nothing, just…,” Belle shook her head. Might as well keep going as long as they were having honesty hour. He hadn’t pushed her away yet. “Every now and then you slip off the armor and call me by my actual name. You know I’d prefer you just call me ‘Belle.’”

“Well, I guess I can try harder at that too, then.”

“Maybe you should, _Robert_.”

He chuckled and just groaned before replying, “Well, I’m not looking forward to it much either. Though I can’t wait to see what all you lovely ladies will be wearing.”

He wiggled his eyebrows in jest and then busted out laughing before recovering.

“I’m joking of course. Unlike some young men, I do not objectify the young women of SHIELD.”

The smile she’d been trying to temper finally reached her eyes, and she reached out to slap him on the arm. It was good to see him so carefree and joking, so she ribbed him right back.

“And there’s the playboy side of you from the past I’ve heard so very much about.”

He froze and gulped, shifting away from her a little bit uncomfortably.

Belle realized she’d probably gone a little far. It was one thing for him to volunteer relevant personal information, but another completely for her to make light of it. Probably not the best move.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered quickly. “We’ve probably pushed enough information out of each other for the night.”

Gold just nodded and quickly reached for his drink.

Belle’s stomach dropped a little bit. Now they were both putting their walls back up again, and who knew what it would take for them to start tearing them down brick by brick once again. Her eyes found the clock in the kitchen behind them, and she realized that it was nearly 11 o’ clock.

“Well, I should probably get going. It’s getting late—“

“You can stay,” he blurted out, staring down at his drink.

Maybe the walls weren’t going back up after all.

“If you’d like,” he quickly continued. “I have quite a few guest rooms. And it’s much less work than having to drive you to the other side of town.”

He finally looked up at her with a playful smirk.

Of course. Shielding him wanting her to stay with a sarcastic comment.

Belle found herself saying yes before she could stop herself. They’d done this before—same space but separate rooms. No harm done, right?  

“Okay, I mean, if you don’t mind…Do you have a t-shirt or something I could wear? I’d really prefer to get out of my sweaty workout outfit.”

He seemed shocked for a moment that she’d actually agreed, and the dance that they had going on around and around with each other only got more complicated. He wanted her here. Maybe as just a friendly request but maybe… maybe not.

“Of course… I’ll show you upstairs. There’s a bathroom right next to one of the guest rooms. Feel free to shower or whatever you’d like.”

She followed him up the stairs and wound through the hallways behind him until they reached the guest room that was likely furthest from his own bedroom. He showed where towels were if she needed to shower and finally cut off his rambling.

“Robert?”

He whirled around at her use of his first name and peered down at her expectantly.

“Yes, Belle?”

The first thing her basic instincts thought to do was lean up and kiss him.  

She quickly tamped down those thoughts and simply settled on, “Thank you. For being there.”

He nodded, and she decided on a compromise.

She closed the distance between them, cupping his face with one hand and placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Belle’s heart was rattling against her rib cage, and she was positive that she had the most ridiculous blush spreading all over her cheeks.

“Good night,” she whispered.

He only nodded dumbly and stood there for a moment, absolutely stunned, before they both turned around and went to their rooms.

For the second time in as many weeks, they were sharing a space. And for the second time in as many weeks, Belle barely slept.

And for the first time, she was absolutely certain that she was falling in love with Robert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment. Kudos. Hate me for taking forever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gold and Belle have breakfast, and Gold decides he needs to be brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look who got this up in a timely manner! Yay breaks from school and having lots of time. Enjoy!

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Eleven

\--

The sunlight was coming through her window at a completely different angle than usual, and that was the first thing that caused Belle to open her eyes the next morning. She sat up in bed immediately when she found herself in a room that her senses didn’t recognize—it didn’t smell like the perfume she gratuitously sprayed, the decorating was all wrong, and it was surprisingly… quiet. Her eyes fully shot open and she rubbed at them as her fuzzy mind cleared.

Right. She was at Gold’s house. She’d spent the night after crying like a baby in front of him. And then sending him off with a kiss on the cheek. Bloody hell.

Belle tried not to let her mind start spinning her thoughts in circles this early in the morning. Not yet anyway. She replayed the sequence of events of the previous night in her head once again—she’d been at the gym, and he’d come looking for her when Natasha called. And then she broke down. And then she came over. And he’d been encouraging and supportive and wonderful.

And she was in love with him.

She didn’t even see the point in trying to let herself deny it anymore. Despite the dark, brooding exterior and his warnings to her of being such a monster, Robert had broken down her walls as much as she seemed to be cutting into his. And somewhere in the battle, she’d gone and fallen for him.

Belle was a little amazed at how much she was not freaking out about the realization.

She turned to the night table suddenly when she heard her phone buzz, seeing that it was 9:07 am, and she had ten texts from Ruby, five from Emma, two from Natasha, and three missed calls from Ruby in the past hour.

As if just looking at the ominous number of messages waiting for her sprung the phone to life again, it vibrated once again. Ruby (and likely Emma) were both calling her.

She picked up and was immediately greeted with Ruby’s harsh, “Where have you been?”

Emma wasted no time in jumping in.

“You’re obviously alive, but do you need us to pick you up or anything?”

Belle wasn’t sure she wanted to divulge her location—sure, she would when she got home at the very least, but the last thing she wanted was her roommates badgering her within the first five minutes of waking up. Not when she already had those stupid butterflies in her stomach at the thought of going downstairs to find Gold somewhere.

She answered carefully, “I was at the office last night. In the gym. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up. I was pretty exhausted.”

 “Well, where are you?” Emma asked. “Did you sleep at the office?”

 _Bugger._ She couldn’t lie to them now only to just tell them the truth later. Against her will, Belle decided it was just best to get the truth out now.

“No, I—Gold found me at the gym, and I’m kind of at his house right now.”

Belle physically braced herself for the screaming that was sure to follow. The line was silent for a moment—likely Emma and Ruby staring at each other in shock and making sure they had heard her correctly. And then came Ruby’s yell.

“OH MY GOD. Isabelle French, did you sleep with him?”

Belle put a hand over her eyes, which she tightly squeezed closed, and shook her head, quick to reply and explain.

“What? Ruby, no. It’s not like that. I just needed someone to talk to, and it got late. He has like five spare rooms, so he offered me one of those. Nothing happened.”

Belle barely had the words out of her mouth before she heard cabinets opening and closing and pots and pans clanging. Gold must have gotten up and was probably making breakfast.

“I’ll be home soon,” she said quickly. “I have to go.”

“Belle! Belle, don’t you dare—“

But she cut off Ruby’s voice and hung up, placing the phone back on the table next to the bed.

She finally pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, stretching a bit and going to the mirror. It was then that she was reminded that he’d given her an old t-shirt to wear the night before.

Cue the butterflies all over again.

She rustled around in her purse to see if she had any spare makeup with her—maybe just a little mascara to make herself look presentable. She grabbed her hairbrush right away too to straighten out all the kinks that had come with sleep.

She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and, figuring he’d seen her less put together, turned away from the mirror and opened the door. Belle tiptoed down the staircase to see if she could peer around and see him at all but to no avail. She quickly padded down the rest of the stairs and made her way through part of the hallway to the living room, where she finally saw him several feet away in his open kitchen, hair adorably rumpled and dressed in a plain black t-shirt and plaid lounge pants, trying to turn on his coffee maker.

“Hey,” Belle finally called out once she’d stepped up to the kitchen island.

He whirled around immediately, greeting her with a rather sleepy smile.

“Hey.”

Apparently Gold liked his sleep more than she’d originally realized, because he absolutely looked like he could crawl onto his kitchen table and take a nap right there.

“I, um, was just making breakfast. I didn’t know if you’d want anything, but I made enough for both of us,” he explained, pointing to the griddle on the counter with pancake batter cooking on it.

Belle couldn’t hide her smile if she tried.  

“Oh, wow. Thank you.”

He shrugged before replying, “You really don’t have to stay if you don’t want. More for me.”

She watched him for a second—he was giving her an out. But then her gaze locked on those intense, amber eyes of his and she just barely saw it for a moment—a look that was begging her _please stay._

Cue an exponential increase of the butterflies.

“No, I mean…,” she stuttered, “I don’t think I have anything planned today, so I’m more than happy to stay.”

Either he must have been too sleepy to care or Belle had just broken down another brick in his wall, because he was grinning the cheesiest smile she’d ever seen on him.

“Okay. Pancakes, eggs, and bacon okay?” he asked.

“Sounds wonderful.”

He turned back to the coffee maker as it finished brewing and pulled two mugs out from the cabinet.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

“Great, actually. Much nicer than my cheap mattress.”

He smiled and poured himself a cup of coffee, then asked her if she’d like one as well, to which she nodded.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. The beds around here really don’t get much use.”

Belle was about to take a sip of the coffee but started giggling at what Gold said and then put it down.

She saw a blush creeping over his cheeks as he went to flip the pancakes. “I mean… that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know. Me and my dirty mind.”

She bit her lip and gripped onto her coffee cup tighter. It was oddly…comfortable. And domestic.

And Belle really found herself liking it.

She quirked an eyebrow as he yawned and asked him, “And how did you sleep?”

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair.

“Not great,” he mumbled. “Not sure why. Guess I’m really not used to having people here, let alone women.”

She smiled, and as long as they were both in a flirty mood, she decided to keep it going. That seemed to be their modus operandi—one of them would start being cheeky. The other would take it a little bit further. The other would take that inch and keep going until they got caught in their awkward stalemate.

“Well, it’s a welcome sight to see the dangerous, storied Robert Gold all adorably sleepy and domestic,” she quipped, biting her lip again.

He looked up and stared at her mouth, teeth gently nibbling on her lower lip and unconsciously licked his own. And then he peered up at her eyes, realized what he’d done, and tried to hide a smile playing on his lips.

Apparently, her vulnerability hadn’t extinguished any of that sexual tension.

And apparently, she was at least going to get braver from here, with him following her lead (who ever saw that coming?). 

The moment was broken when Belle’s stomach decided to interrupt and growl and grumble loudly in the silent room.

Gold’s eyebrows jumped in surprise, and it was her turn to blush.

“Food almost ready?” she teased.

“A little hungry, Belle?”

“Just a bit. Workout wore me out last night.”

Gold nodded in understanding, turning around to grab one of the plates he’d gotten out, serving up a little bit of everything and handing her a plate.

“Well, here you are then.”

She nodded and smiled gratefully and said, “Why thank you.”

They ate in relative silence, and Belle couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head. Was she the reason he’d been up so late? Had he thought about possibly coming to find her in the middle of the night? Maybe check on her? Confess his feelings to her?

Belle crunched on a piece on bacon and shook the thought out of her head. Fantasizing about it was only going to drive her mad. They had time. No need to rush into spilling her guts to him or him to her—if he wanted her.

But Belle couldn’t help but become more and more sure that her partner was quite fond of her.

Before she could think herself into a frenzy and think back on all of their past interactions to try to come to a logical conclusion, that, yes, indeed, Robert absolutely had feelings for her, Belle polished off her plate.

“Well, I’m going to go change and then, if you don’t mind just driving me back to the office, I’ll get my car.”

He nodded and continued picking at his breakfast as Belle climbed back up the stairs, made the bed, and put on a pullover she had laying in her bag over her sports bra and gym shorts. She made her way back downstairs to find Gold washing the dishes, and they left shortly after.

Again, they spent their time in relative silence, idly talking about work and David and Mary Margaret’s upended wedding plans.

“Here’s your stop,” he said, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex.

Belle grabbed her bag from behind her in the back seat , unbuckled and turned to him with a smile.

“Hey, thank you.”

He shrugged. And she wondered if he was wondering if she was going to kiss him on the cheek again.

“For breakfast. And for listening to whine last night and… thank you.”

He smiled and responded, “You’re lucky I like you. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

The butterflies came raging back for the third time that morning. Maybe he’d meant it in a friendly way, but she couldn’t help but thinking otherwise.

So she rewarded him by grinning and cupping her hand on the back of his neck, craning her head around to press her lips against his cheek.

Something inside Belle gave her the audacity to wink at him and reply, “I know.”

Belle let herself out of the car and went up to face her roommates.

She’d never know that Gold sat in his car for a good five minutes after she’d walked up in stunned silence.

Belle walked in the door only to have a pillow launched at her face. She batted it away to find Ruby winding up to throw another.

“Ruby, hey!”

Ruby dropped the pillow with a huff and pointed an angry finger at Belle.

“You hung up on me at a very important moment, Miss French!”

Emma’s bedroom door opened, and their third roommate wiped at her eyes—she must have fallen back asleep after she and Ruby called.

“What is going on out here? I heard screaming.”

“Belle just got home from her little sleepover with Agent Gold!” Ruby exclaimed.

Emma wore a Cheshire cat grin as she replied in a faux seductive voice, “Oh, did she now?”

Belle rolled her eyes.

 “Guys, it was nothing.”

“Riiiiiight,” Ruby drawled. “Nothing.”

“Important thing is, you’re okay, right?” Emma asked, concern replacing her mischievous smile.

“Yeah, I just…your first mission isn’t easy. I just needed to talk to someone who’d been there before. I’m really sorry about bailing on you guys.”

Ruby pulled Belle into a hug. “It’s really okay, Belle. We just want to know you’re safe. Even if safe means making out with your co-worker.”

“Nothing happened. We didn’t kiss.”

“What about while you were in Amsterdam? Did anything happen there? We still haven’t heard all the juicy, non-confidential details from you.”

Belle let go of Ruby and just shrugged. It was about to be a long morning, and suddenly, she didn’t feel like being bombarded with questions.

“There’s not much to tell. I’ve told you the long and short of it—had to shoot a guy. Saved Gold’s life.”

“And shared a hotel room?” Emma added.

_Bloody hell, Natasha._

“It was a suite, and we had separate rooms,” she grumbled.  

“Still in the same space. And surely after saving his life, he had to repay you somehow…” Ruby continued.

Belle sighed—they were her roommates and two of her best friends. And as much as she hated being needled about romance and just preferred to figure it out on her own, it hadn’t served her very well in the past. Ruby and Emma deserved to know. But Belle was pretty sure she’d spent all her bravery ten minutes ago in the car.

“Guys, no. I swear. Nothing happened.”

“Hey, if you say so. I commend your willpower,” Emma commented. “I wasn’t working in close quarters with Neal for a month before things happened.”

Belle folded her arms defensively. If they were going to get this out of her, they were going to have to work for it.

“Who says I’m even attracted to him?”

“Well, something tells me that there’s a reason you turned down Captain America and spend all your time with the fearsome Agent Gold.”

“I’m just not into Steve,” Belle replied, shrugging. “He’s a friend. And I have to spend time with Robert for training.”

Both Emma and Ruby’s eyes widened—everyone at SHIELD knew that it was the hallowed few in Gold’s inner circle who called him by his first name, and the significance of Belle calling him Robert did not go unnoticed.

Belle’s cover was pretty much blown wide open.

“Did you just call him Robert?” Emma finally inquired.

Ruby was standing next to Emma, grinning devilishly before starting in on her shameless teasing. , pretending to swoon.

“I wonder how that’d sound when you two are locked in the throes of passion. OH, Robert! ROB-“

Belle couldn’t decide if she was fuming or just blushing furiously, but her face suddenly felt extremely hot.

“Stop,” she barked.  

Ruby stilled immediately and pursed her lips tightly together.  “You’re right. Sorry. Too far.”

But Belle just shook her head at how ridiculous Ruby’s impression of her was.

Belle knew that both Ruby and Emma were very aware that something was up. And what was the worst that could happen? They clearly didn’t hate Gold, so it wasn’t like they’d disapprove. The worst that would probably happen was ceaseless teasing.

And having to admit out loud that she had feelings for him.

She huffed and plopped down on the couch and began to explain.

“In Amsterdam, after the mission… we were talking. Just about… everything, and…”

Emma and Ruby came to sit on either side of her and watch with rapt attention.

“We didn’t kiss,” Belle clarified, and both Ruby and Emma’s shoulders fell in disappointment.  

“But we almost did,” Belle continued.

“Almost? What happened?” Emma nearly shrieked, and Belle wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her friend so excited to get information out of her.

“I was telling him about my mom and everything… and then he told me about how he ended up at SHIELD, where he went to school, what happened with Neal from his point of view. And then I asked him what made him pick up a partner again, and he said Regina forced him to. So I made a joke about how I probably made his life hell and he just looked at me like…like I was greater than the sun and the stars and he started leaning in to kiss me. And then a bird ran into the window and completely ruined it.”

“You’re joking, right?” Ruby replied, an incredulous look on her face. “A bird? I need a better story than that.”

“I wish I was joking. It was awful.”

Belle figured she’d leave out the part about mistaking the poor bird for a gunshot.

“So has anything happened since then?” Ruby asked. “Like last night?”

“No, but he… he keeps giving me these larger and larger glimpses of such a sweet, loving man. He makes me laugh. I love being around him…

Well. No point in holding it back anymore.

“I’m falling in love with him.”

Belle refused to make eye contact with either Ruby or Emma, and Ruby reached out and placed a comforting hand on Belle’s knee.

“Sweetheart, we know. You’ve got it bad.”

“And you have to know he has it bad for you too,” Emma added.

Belle shook her head. Her throat was tightening and there was this inexplicable knot there that she couldn’t seem to swallow and this was why she never talked about her love life…

“I don’t know. I mean, he is the one who initiated the almost-kiss. He’s been looking at me lately like… I can’t even describe it. But then he’ll pull away and…”

She groaned and put her head in her hands. She was so bad at feelings sometimes. So bad. For a woman with a genius-level IQ, she couldn’t form words to save her life when it counted sometimes.

“He’s nervous, Belle. I think you’ve forgotten that I’m dating one of his best friends,” Emma offered, patting her on the back.

“It’s true. And just from seeing you two interact, it’s enough to set the room on fire.”

“So what, I just tell him?”

Ruby squeezed Belle’s knee and chuckled. “You act like you’ve never been with a man before!”

Belle had a response, but the words caught in her throat. Partially because she was afraid of saying it—because it was true. Partially because her mind was doing backflips and making her second-guess whether or not it was true.

Finally, Belle whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strongly about one!”

The three of them fell silent.

Somewhere along the spilling tea on him and whacking him hard in the face while sparring and snapping right back at his snide remarks… and having be so protective and getting to know him and have him comfort her and saving his life… He had gotten his way into her heart. And now it was out in the open. Not just Belle’s secret anymore.

Emma finally spoke up. “Tell you what. Our Agents Initiation Ball is coming up in a couple weeks. We’ll make you even more of a knockout than usual, and he won’t be able to resist.”

Belle smiled weakly at Emma’s attempt to comfort her. “And if that doesn’t work?”

But Ruby confidently responded, squeezing Belle’s knee once more.

“Oh, we will find a way to make this work.”

* * *

 

Gold sat at a conference table adjacent to Fury’s office, with the Director and Regina sitting with him. Mary Margaret and David were due to arrive any second now so that the three of them could inform the couple of Zelena Mills’ plans to crash their wedding.

A knock on the door came from outside and Fury called them in immediately and began speaking.

“Thank you both for coming in. Agent Gold, the Deputy Director, and I would like to debrief you on some of the information discovered at HYDRA’s Wonderland base.

Gold clicked on a few files on his laptop, which showed up on the large projection screen in front of all of the agents.

“Strike Team Delta found these plans at the base,” Gold began to explain, “detailing a planned attack on your wedding reception. Here we have blueprints of where Jefferson Hatter had seemed to plan to attack. We also have documents online giving more detail about the plans.”

The couple visibly tensed as Gold scrolled through some of the files. Both Mary Margaret and David seemed horrified at the blueprints on the screen, and Mary Margaret grabbed for David’s hand.

“Well, I suppose it’s not a fairytale wedding if an evil queen doesn’t crash it,” she deadpanned.  

Gold couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s resilience. Mary Margaret was sweet and shy, but she was skilled, tough, and she and David fiercely loved each other. If anyone could find a way out of such a mess, it would be them.

“You have options,” Fury offered. “Obviously, we highly recommend that you change venues to help us take a more preventative measure.”

Regina continued. “What we can do is keep the place reserved and cancel at the last possible moment all while planning something else. In addition, we’ll also have heightened security.”

David and Mary Margaret remained stoic and silent, likely weighing their options separately.

David was the first to speak. “Look, this is obviously not what someone wants to hear about their wedding planning…”

“Not like it hasn’t been stressful enough,” his fiancé chimed in.

“All extra expenses will be paid for by SHIELD.”

Both David and Mary Margaret’s brows shot up at Regina’s offer. They certainly had the money, and it made sense to a degree, but even Gold was a little pleasantly surprised when Fury and Regina told them of their plans.

“You’re going to pay for our wedding?”

“In the interest of protecting the employees of SHIELD while still allowing you two to have your wedding, yes,” Fury declared. “Yes, we are.”

The couple’s shoulders loosened and they both sighed gratefully before Mary Margaret seemed to have another pressing question.

“But what if someone else books our original reception hall for an event that night and…”

“We’ll have security on both sites,” Regina assured her.

She nodded in response, and both of them seemed at least a little less shaken than when they had first come in.

“Okay,” David finally said. “Then I guess all we can do is take it one step at a time from here.”

Fury nodded and then added, “Thank you very much for your cooperation. You all may be dismissed.”

Fury and Regina remained seated while Gold, Mary Margaret, and David all left.

Once out in the hallway, it was Gold’s turn to tense up as he watched the calm façade of his two friends unravel. David light pounded his fist against the wall and muttered angrily, “The one time I just wanted a little separation from work in my life.”

He gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead against the wall, finally able to let his emotions out. Mary Margaret came up behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arms. “David, hey, calm down…”

He finally pulled back from the wall, closed his eyes and let out a deep breath and turned around. Gold and Mary Margaret both knew this was about to be one of the rare times David Nolan blew up.

“No,” he said sternly. “These witches at HYDRA are trying to ruin our wedding day and possibly kill us all. I am not letting anything happen to you.”

Gold had only seen him like this a few times before, but he knew that David was just blowing out hot air. He’d level out in a few minutes, but Gold understood the outburst. Someone he loved was in danger and so was he and the rest of SHIELD. There wasn’t much he could say, but for some reason, Gold found himself trying anyway.

“David, just relax.”

But David whirled around to face Gold and threw his arms up in the air, yelling, “How am I supposed to relax when we’ve been living in a world where we’re not sure what we’ll be dealing with in twenty minutes, let alone tomorrow?”

He didn’t have anything to come back with. David was right.

“We don’t have all the time in the world.”

Oh. Also true.

“David…” Mary Margaret had come up alongside him once again and pulled him into an embrace.

He sighed into her and mumbled, “Part of me just wants to say forget the big wedding, and let’s just do it tomorrow.”

Mary Margaret just laughed and then looked at him deadly serious and said, “I know… but we’re not doing that.”

David relaxed a bit, chuckling and running his thumb over his fiancé’s cheek.

“I know, M.”

An idea came to Gold and he asked the two, “You could come to a happy medium and just move it up a month? May instead of June?”

“But that’s still so much planning and re-planning…”

“No, maybe Gold has a point. So we’d have less than two months to finish everything. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

“We could always go to Storybrooke,” Mary Margaret suggested. “Move the venue outside—on the beach even. Find a reception place somewhere in town…”

David leaned back against the wall again, considering Gold’s idea. Mary Margaret waited patiently for her fiancé to say something, and Gold just stood idly, lost in his own thoughts, David’s earlier words for some reason unable to leave him alone.

_We don’t have all the time in the world._

The sentimental part of Gold wanted to take the words and analyze them and apply them to every possibly related aspect of his life. The more stubborn part of him was looking for every possible reason not to do that.  

“We really don’t have to do that,” he heard David say to Mary Margaret. “It’s just a suggestion.”

She shrugged and asked, “Well, what do you want to do?”

“I want to do what makes you happy.”

“Good answer.”

Gold almost (almost) found himself a little jealous of the way those two idiots were grinning at each other.

_We don’t have all the time in the world._

He shook himself out of his thoughts when he heard Mary Margaret speak again.

“And I don’t want to wait any longer either. Sometimes you just have to jump.”

David nodded.

“Sometimes you just have to jump.”

Gold didn’t have all the time in the world. He’d learned that much when it came to Neal and their once broken friendship. And he knew the case was the same with Belle or any woman. He’d either have to get her out of his system or jump.

_Do the brave thing and bravery will follow._

Surely she would have pushed him away by now if she had absolutely no interest. Surely she wouldn’t have deliberately continued to flirt with him (it was flirting, right) or kiss him on the cheek the second time when she must have seen how dumbfounded he’d been the first time around.

She hadn’t let him die on their mission. And one of his best friends was dating one of Belle’s roommates. Surely if it had come up that Belle had interest in someone else or hated him, Neal would have mentioned it. And he knew Neal well enough that he’d certainly tried to get intel from Emma.

She hadn’t pulled away when he’d made the impulsive and maybe idiotic move of trying to kiss her in Amsterdam.

Gold’s bravery seemed to come in small but powerful spurts around her.

Maybe it was time for him to jump.

* * *

 

It was a week before the Agents’ Initiation Ball, and several of the more seasoned agents had gathered to discuss finalizing details for the event—decorations, food, etc. It was supposed to be fairy tale themed, held in a convention center downtown, and a couple days before, a decorating crew led by Tony, Steve, and Pepper were going to start turning the place into an enchanted forest.

First, they had to figure out what an enchanted forest was supposed to look like. So the decorating crew went downtown to scope the place out firsthand.

“Gold, décor ideas. Go,” Neal said with a snap of his fingers as they entered the center’s grand ballroom.

Gold rolled his eyes.  “I’m hardly the one to ask for décor ideas. I haven’t been to one of these bloody balls in over ten years.”

Pepper, who had been flipping through all of her Pinterest board ideas on her iPad, whirled around in what could only be described as utter disgust.

“Are you serious?”

Clint sidled up beside Gold and gave him a friendly clap on the back, answering for him. “He’s serious alright. Gold’s a perennial party-pooper.”

Wasn’t his fault. He didn’t like to dance. So as a result, he couldn’t dance. So what was the point of going to a ball and watching his co-workers get drunk and have fun all around him. He always felt out of place.

David joined in on the questioning. “So are you even coming this year then?”

Gold only rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Do you really think I’d sign myself up to be involved in the planning of an event I’ll not attend?”

“Can never tell with you, Gold,” Natasha commented. ”You’re a bastard one minute, and the next you’re pretty nice, if not a little quiet.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

“And the nice is really only when he’s around Belle,” David added.

Without giving it second thought, Gold threw an elbow into David’s side as he walked past him. Again, his friends weren’t necessarily wrong.

But he’d rather not say that out loud.

“Oww. Just jokes, Bobby.”

It’d been two weeks since Belle had stayed over. Since Gold decided that maybe he just needed to try to be braver. It hadn’t worked out well. They’d fallen back into a stalemate and not much had progressed. Gold was still awkwardly dancing around her, and she was doing the same. She’d throw him a bone, and he’d take it a little further, back and forth until they reached that precipice neither of them wanted to jump over.

But he’d at least come to make himself believe that his attraction couldn’t be just one-sided. And he’d let her in before. He could keep doing it. Even if it meant possibly getting rejected and being embarrassed. Maybe Clint and Natasha would be willing to switch partners for a bit to alleviate the tension if things went south.

But he couldn’t afford to think like that. He didn’t have all the time in the world, and in the past two weeks, he’d lost sleep. He couldn’t really focus all that well. He’d tried and failed to come up with ways to talk to Belle or find the opportunity to try to kiss her again. Nothing seemed to work out.

“So is that why you’re coming this year? Because of Belle?” Gold heard Neal ask.

He settled on a safe answer. “I may not always be a gentleman, but not being in attendance to celebrate my partner’s completion of training would be a terrible thing of me.”

Hopefully that would stop the questions. He was fine to ruminate over it in his own head but not in the presence of others.

“You know, you never have told any of us why you never come to the ball,” Clint mentioned as the group continued their survey of the ballroom.  

It really was a dumb reason, Gold thought—that he couldn’t dance. He didn’t care enough to learn. Or much less, even try. And a terribly clichéd answer too. But it was the truth.

“Well, for one, I don’t dance.”

“Don’t or can’t?” Natasha teased.

For a split second, part of Gold was almost hoping that they’d be willing to at least give him a quick tutorial. Maybe dancing would be a good way to move things along with Belle…

“Can’t,” Gold replied. “Was never a fan of it so I just don’t do it.”

“And what if someone asks you to dance next week?”

Gold scoffed, though he was quite sure that everyone in the room, himself included, was hoping that he and Belle would share at least one dance. They were probably plotting some ridiculously convoluted design to make it happen.

“I highly doubt that will happen,” Gold grumbled.

He knew that Natasha was seeing right through him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she replied.

No. He wasn’t sure about it at all. And of course Natasha knew that he wanted to dance with Belle and probably that he had a raging crush on her. But he didn’t have to say that out loud. It was one thing for him admit his feelings for Belle to himself and a little bit to Neal and David. It was another thing to tell more than his two confidantes. An entirely different animal to tell Belle herself.

“You really don’t think that Belle won’t want to dance with you at least once?” Neal asked.

Gold just shrugged, keeping the cool, stern look on his face with ease.  “I don’t know. I can’t read her mind.”

David spoke up. “Well, maybe you’ll have to ask her.”

_We don’t have all the time in the world._

“Come on,” Natasha began. “Get up, Bobby. I’ll show you how to sweep Belle off her feet. Or at least not stomp on her feet.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I employ every cliche romantic trope I could think of for the ultimate fluff fest to pay off some of this slow burn nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I decided to go ahead and up the rating because it'll be relevant in a couple chapters. So just so you know that the good times are coming (and so will Belle and Gold...I'm sorry. Bad joke.) Mwahaha.  
> 2) Final word count for the chapter is 7,763 words. I hope it's enough. ;)

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Twelve

__

The Enchanted Forest theme of the Agents’ Initiation Ball had turned more “Disney castle” than “woodland creatures.” The convention center touched the shores of the Potomac River, and Gold noticed that it all created an almost mystical (dare he say, romantic) setting with the fairytale themes painting over the dull walls of the ballroom just yards away.

He had just parked his car in the lot and was heading inside, staring down at his feet as he walked. He couldn’t help but think of his dance lessons with Clint, Natasha, and Neal the week prior as he strode inside, signs pointing him to ornate double doors, which he opened to see the fruits of the agents’ labor throughout the week.

For a master assassin, Gold certainly wasn’t the greatest dancer, but Natasha had assured him that’d be would be fine—not that he had asked for that assurance in the first place. He was perfectly capable of dancing with Belle and asking Belle to dance. Now he just would actually have to do it.

That was, of course, depending on whether or not he made it through his speech. Gold had been informed just three days ago that it had become custom for the partners of the new agents to say a few words about the newly initiated employees.

No pressure or anything. Gold just had to give a quick speech on the woman he was in love with. No pressure at all. What could possibly go wrong?

Gold had pored over the speech for the past 48 hours, trying to figure out what he could possibly say that would be a perfect mixture of sweet, entertaining, and (mostly) serious. He’d never cared much for speeches or putting any sort of thought into them. He was an intelligent man and could be charismatic enough when he had to be, but writing a speech about Belle French had gone from doable to as nerve-wracking as his Rhodes interview back in his 20s very quickly—in those 48 hours, he hadn’t come up with much, but he had jotted down notes that he hoped would suffice in keeping his train of thought in line.

-        _No calling her pretty from the stage_

-        _Keep it quick_

-        _Don’t give any indication that you in any way have feelings for her._

Seemed simple enough.

He sighed as he stuffed in his hands into his pockets as he stepped inside the ballroom, feeling the small slip of paper reminding him of the speech.

The convention center had already been outfitted with gorgeous chandeliers, but Clint and Tony had offered to supply the perimeter of the room with small trees adorned with Christmas lights twirled all around the branches. Tables decked in white cloth and small castles as decorations in the middle of them sat to one side of the room, a dance floor milling with people in tuxes and lovely dresses on the other side. A small stage was lit by paper lanterns hung all around, and a table for Fury, Regina, and the other executives of SHIELD sat upon the stage for them to later give speeches and toasts. On an opposite side of the room, the open bar was surrounded by a scaled down stone castle, which Tony had ordered specifically for the event.

It was beautiful, truly—maybe even a bit overdone. Gold scanned the crowd to see Pepper and Tony socializing among Bruce Banner and Victor Whale, and he spotted Clint and Natasha speaking with Agent Robin Hood.

It’d been years since he’d been to one of these things, and he certainly remembered how to socialize, but such events still proved to be overwhelming when he was aimlessly walking around alone. But still, Gold preferred to prolong any talking until someone came to speak to him and made awkward small talk. He decided to head toward the bar.

He couldn’t help but search for Belle as he did so. He hadn’t seen her anywhere in the room so far, nor did he see Ruby or Emma.

Of course he was at this bloody party for her. He’d never admit it out loud, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced just thinking anxiously about when she’d finally arrive.

He _didn’t_ have all the time in the world. They’d danced around to each other for months, and something had to give. It was a terrible place to be in, he found—wanting something so badly but being unsure if it was a good idea to go after it. Risk. It all came down to taking risks. And for someone who risked his life all the time and hadn’t taken a chance on a romantic relationship in about twenty years, now was time to find a happy medium. 

If she wasn’t interested, it was partially her fault for giving him that impression then.

At least that’s how Gold was trying to justify it.

Because rather than think of the ways it could go right, it was much easier to prepare himself for the ways it would go wrong.

He could chalk it all up to her giving him mixed signals—she had the chance to leave his apartment but stayed the night (and for breakfast). She hadn’t pulled away when he’d almost kissed her. She shamelessly flirted with him until one of them bolted and abruptly changed topics. Maybe she was just as scared as he was. (But he barely let himself entertain that thought, lest he get caught up in that glimmer of hope.)

Gold continued scanning the crowd as he approached the bar for a glass of champagne.

“Well, I guess you did decide to show up after all, Bobby.”

He whirled around to see Neal standing before him, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Really thought I wouldn’t?” he replied, taking his friend’s hand.

“Guess it just means you’ve got it worse than I thought.”

Gold wondered if it would have been wiser to order a shot (or three) rather than the champagne.

“No,” he began with a smirk. “As I said, I am here to honor the new agents, one of whom happens to be my partner, about whom I have to give a speech.”

Neal ordered himself a drink and turned back to Gold, eyeing him carefully.

“Bobby, how long are you gonna keep running from this?”

Yep, he really wanted to do this. Neal really wanted to have this heart-to-heart. Taking the edge off with something a little more potent definitely sounded appealing.

Neal continued.

“And don’t tell me there’s nothing that you’re running from.”

He was right. Of course he was running from her. For a few different reasons, one of which being how could he even be sure he wouldn’t make a fool of himself? He kept himself in a state of self-preservation, preferring to stay silent and push away than speak up and face the consequences. Neal knew that about him better than anyone.

“Neal, I can handle this by myself.”

But Neal just groaned in frustration.

“Why are you even trying to fight this anymore? You’ve told me you like her, but you haven’t made any attempts to ask her out.”

“Neal—“

“Come on. We didn’t give you dance lessons for nothing.”

_We don’t have all the time in the world._

It was true, and Neal seemed adamant about talking about this, so there was really no way around it now. If he ran away from a conversation about Belle, he’d certainly keep running from Belle herself.

“What is holding you back from at least trying? You’re one of the most fearless men I’ve ever met but you can’t ask a girl out?”

_Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._

Belle’s classic phrase weighed heavy in his mind. Do it. Do the brave thing.

Gold fell silent as Neal continued to speak, zoning out completely on what his friend was saying. Neal’s voice dissolved into the rest of the chatter of the crowd while Gold just stared blankly into his glass.

Do the brave thing.

So Gold resolved in his mind, however weakly or uncertainly, that before the night was over, he was going to get through this speech with ease. He was going to dance with Belle. And he may even try to kiss her again.

“Neal—“

Neal continued rambling on, trying to will his friend into action.

“Okay,” Gold finally said sternly, finally shutting Neal up. For a moment.

“You’re Robert fucking Gold. And if I have to give you this pep talk regarding Belle one more time, I’m going to rub sandpaper on your—“

“Evening, gentlemen.”

Neal’s mouth snapped shut as he heard Emma’s voice, and then his eyes lit up as he openly stared at her—she looked lovely. Neal gently grabbed her by the waist and brought her in for a chaste kiss.

“Hey, sweetheart. You all just get here?”

“Yeah, Ruby and Belle should be around here somewhere.”

Emma craned her head back toward the wide staircase and pointed as Ruby and Belle descended down the stairs.

“Oh, there they are!”

Gold turned to see, and his eyes landed on his partner. And then he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to take his eyes off of her again. He’d seen Belle dressed up before for work—she was a gorgeous woman. But tonight…

Beautiful wasn’t a fair description. Radiant. Exquisite. Stunning. Those were probably more accurate. Her hair was straightened and swept to the side, her dress a modest sleeveless number—black, translucent, mesh material flowing down outside a simpler, cream material inside.

He’d been so transfixed by her that he jumped a little bit when he was shaken out of his staring as Ruby greeted, “Hello, fellow agents of SHIELD!”

Belle and Ruby were suddenly right in front of him, and he still hadn’t quite stopped gawking. He nodded politely to Ruby, who then turned her attention to Emma, whispering in her ear and leading her and Neal closer to the bar, leaving he and Belle alone.

Belle walked closer to him with a shy smile, her heels almost putting them on equal footing. He also had an incredible direct view of the way her eyes were highlighted by her makeup, and how had he possibly stayed away from her this long? 

“Good evening, Agent Gold.”

She smiled wider, and he mirrored her expression, suddenly feeling all the tension in his stomach melting away. How she had that effect on him, he’d never know.

“Hello, Agent French,” he replied, with a bit of a dramatic bow.

She giggled, and he smiled back even wider, because how could he not be thrilled knowing that he could make her laugh?

She offered him a fake curtsy and then added, “The whole by-the-book, proper formalities thing isn’t really us, is it?”

No. Not at all. Not around her at least. And before he could even think about it, Gold replied, “It is around everyone but you, it seems.”

She had a look on her face that he could only describe as satisfied, content. One point for Gold, he figured. He hadn’t scared her off yet.

“That a good thing?” she teased, quirking an eyebrow.

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

They lapsed into a beat of silence, and Gold inwardly cursed Fury and Regina for not having the music start yet. They were waiting to recognize the new agents, but Gold would have willingly, without any coercion or misgivings, asked Belle for a dance in that moment.

_Bloody hell._

Timing never seemed to be his friend, it seemed.

“Well,” Belle began, “I’ve had a long day of letting Ruby and Emma turn me into their Barbie doll, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go grab myself a drink.”

Gold nodded dumbly, and the words, “You look beautiful” or anything remotely close to that all got stopped up in his throat. She had walked away before he could even say anything else. Minus one point for Gold.

He remained planted in place, sipping the flute of champagne and still watching everyone flutter about the room. Belle had gone across the floor with Neal and Emma to talk with Clint and Natasha, and Gold drained the last of the drink and leaned up against the edge of the bar, waving off the bartender’s offer of another. It was about five minutes later that Regina and Fury rose to the podium on the stage, Regina speaking clearly into the microphone.

“May I have everyone’s attention, please?”

The conversations of the crowd came to a rather quick halt, heads turned and eyes trained on the two leaders.

“It is my absolute pleasure to welcome you all to the 2015 SHIELD Agents’ Initiation Ball. It is absolutely lovely to have so many of our employees here to celebrate another wonderful year at SHIELD and the introduction of our newest assets.”

Fury then took the microphone and reviewed SHIELD’s mission statement, the accomplishments of the past year, and briefly recognized each of the members of the Avengers Initiative for their work. It all blurred past Gold as he tried to organize just one coherent sentence for his upcoming speech.

Regina returned to the podium and began to speak again.  

“And now we would like to recognize our newest members of SHIELD, in addition to their partners. Please join me in welcoming Agents Ruby Lucas, Mary Margaret Blanchard, Emma Swan, and Belle French.”

The four women all made their way to the stage, Gold, Neal, David and Doctor Whale all followed, and Gold did little to hide the proud smile that tugged at his face as he and the rest of SHIELD politely clapped for them.

The four new agents stood left and center with Gold and the others standing toward the back of the stage. He was partially blocked from view because of Ruby’s monstrous heels, and he silently thanked the party-planning gods or whoever was out there that made it a little less obvious to the crowd that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Belle.

Regina continued, “Agent Ruby Lucas comes from our program in the SHIELD Academy of Science and Technology and will be working with Doctor Bruce Banner and Doctor Victor Whale. Doctor Whale will now offer a few words.”

Whale stepped forward and awkwardly fumbled through his speech, and it was then that Gold realized that every other man up there was his partner’s significant other.

Well, that was a tad awkward.

The other two speeches went by all too quickly and before he was even near ready to speak, Regina was saying, “Agent Belle French comes from our program in the SHIELD Academy of Operations and will be a field agent in the black-ops unit Strike Team Delta. Her partner, Robert Gold, will now say a few words.”

He hadn’t made eye contact with Belle the entire time he’d been up on stage, and as he headed toward the podium, his gaze remained on the ground.

He felt for the notes in his pocket, about to pull them out, when he crumpled the post-it note instead. The notes were useless anyway.

Time to jump.

“Agents of SHIELD, Director, Deputy Director—I don’t come to events like these often, but it is a pleasure to be here and briefly tell you about working with one of our newest agents. Unfortunately, unlike the three speakers before me, I am not dating my partner, so I have no insights into how that affects a relationship in the workplace as they do.”

Gold paused as soft rumbles of laughter rolled through the crowd, and he snuck a look back at Belle to see her beaming at him, and—if he could just turn around again and get a better look at her—it even appeared that she was blushing.

“Agent French has made it a habit of being clumsy, despite how skilled she is in hand-to-hand combat. She’s chipped a tea cup of mine, and one her very first day, the way she introduced herself to me was bumping into me in the hallway and spilling a latte on me.”

More laughter erupted from the crowd, and he took the moment to sneak another look back at her. She was giving me a fake glare along with that same bright smile, and yes, now she was _definitely_ blushing.

“I was a bit mad of course, at first, but I think the most telling thing about Agent French that day was how she handled herself. It’s no secret that I’m not the easiest person to talk to around the water cooler, but she matched me wit for wit from the very first day. And I think that’s when I knew…”

Gold turned back toward her once more to her encouragingly happy smile, and he thought he saw her eyes shining a little bit.

_That it was going to be impossible for me not to fall for her._

He swallowed those words quickly and continued, making an effort to quickly wrap up before his brain betrayed him and he started rambling.

“I think that’s when I knew that she was going to be a spitfire, and I knew that would translate into her other abilities. It’s been wonderful getting to know her, and she’s even already successfully completed her first mission. I think that in itself says how special she is. I’m very grateful for the opportunity to continue working with her.”

He ended with a nod and a “thank you,” returning to the back of the stage with his eyes focused on the ground the whole time. Regina was closing her speech when Belle turned back to him, mouthed a “thank you,” and winked.

Another point for Gold. Onto the next task.

But still, as they all departed from the stage, he made a conscious effort to fall behind her and then sprint directly for the bar, just to get lost in the crowd of people and avoid inevitably speaking with her and maybe dancing with her and messing things up with her a little bit longer.

 “Agent Gold.”

He turned to see that Ruby had sidled up next to him.

“Agent Lucas, congratulations. How may I help you?”

“Oh nothing,” she replied, her smile telling him that she was there for anything but nothing. “Just here to grab a drink.” She turned to the bar tender. “Long island, please?”

She waited in silence for her drink, and he did the same, wondering just what it was that Ruby was leaving unsaid.

The bartender finished her drink and handed it to her. Ruby turned to walk away but then whirled around at the last moment, catching Gold by the shoulder.

“Oh, before I forget, there is one thing I wanted to mention.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. Of course there was.

“And what would that be?”

“Belle’s a big fan of sappy love song ballad type things. I can request one for you later, if you’d like.”

His mouth dropped open, and Gold debated between about a hundred different reactions—gruffly ignoring her, rolling his eyes, and sinking deep into a hole being the top three choice.

But he didn’t even have time to choose how to react as Ruby winked, strutted off, and casually threw over her shoulder, “Oh, by the way—nice speech!”

Gold just glared daggers into the back of Ruby’s head and took the opportunity to get himself another glass of champagne, content to sip in silence and watch. Clint and Natasha were surprisingly cozy on the dance floor, and oh, that was an image he really didn’t need burned into his brain. Regina appeared to be making small talk with Robin Hood, and Coulson’s jokes were seeming to be a hit with Steve Rogers, as well as Doctors Whale and Banner, who stood in a huddled circle with them.

Gold remained on the sidelines still, watching intently as the dancing picked up. Belle, Ruby, and Emma were all trying to shout lyrics to an upbeat pop song and melodramatically coordinated movements to the words, laughing at each other as they did. When SHIELD had turned into the prom, Gold wasn’t exactly sure. But he certainly wasn’t bothered while watching Belle be so carefree.

“Having fun watching your girl dance without you?”

Gold turned to see Neal once again standing beside him.

He shrugged. “I’m certainly not complaining about the view.”

Neal smirked, patting him on the back. “She looks great tonight. Go get her, Bobby.”

Gold shook his head and turned back to watching the dance floor, zoning out again and almost missing that Emma had come over by Neal, her boyfriend whispering something in her ear, causing her to smile and nod forcefully.

Emma returned to the dance floor, quickly ushering Ruby away and whispering to her as Belle interrupted her dancing to speak with Mary Margaret and David.

Fucking hell. They were up to something.

Gold and Neal stood together for another ten minutes, chatting about inane topics.

And then a much slower rhythm began to bump through the stereo.

Emma was herding Belle over to him and Neal. Was Neal going to take Emma out to the dance floor and awkwardly leave him and Belle there until he cracked and asked her?

Smooth, guys. Smooth.

Instead, Neal wrapped both arms around Emma and Belle, turning to Emma and saying, “Sweetheart, I love you, but it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to catch up with Belle. Mind if I dance with her for this song?”

Emma replied all too casually.

“Yeah, of course. Not a problem. As long as that’s okay with Belle?”

Belle cocked her head and made a move to say something, biting it back. She turned to Neal, and her friend offered her an arm. She took it, and they made their way out onto the floor.

There was no need for him to be jealous at all—he knew that Neal was head over heels for Emma. And yet he felt like something was starting to burn inside his chest.

“Hey Gold,” Emma called out. “My boyfriend over here is ditching me to dance with my roommate. Wanna get back at him?”

“I’m sorry?”

Emma pointed out to the floor where Neal and Belle were swaying slightly and making friendly conversation. What exactly were Neal and Emma trying to get at here?

He sighed and nodded, wordlessly leading Emma onto the dance floor. If their plan to get him to dance with Belle was to try to make him “jealous” by using Neal to dance with her, they must have thought he was more afraid than even he thought he was. But, what the hell. He could use a warm-up, and he’d rather bruise Emma’s feet than Belle’s.

He led tentatively, a respectable distance between them and his one hand resting high on Emma’s waist as they toed back and forth on the floor.

“You two planned this,” he finally said.

Emma just grinned back at Gold shamelessly.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“You really think that having him dance with Belle is going to make me jealous?”

“Is it working?”

That gave him pause. Yes, against all rational thought, it was making him a bit jealous. He didn’t want anyone else to be dancing with her, whether it was some single bloke from the R&D department, another agent, or Neal.

“No,” Gold mumbled.

“Oh come on,” she pressed. “Not even a little?”

Yes, definitely a little. But Gold wasn’t about to tell Emma that she and Neal’s rather juvenile plan was working on him perfectly. Instead, he got defensive.

“You really think I need this much urging to ask her for a bloody dance?”

She nodded confidently. “Yeah. We really do.”

“Next dance. I’ll ask her.”

And he would. He meant it. And now he had it out in the open, had someone to hold him accountable for it. He was going to do it. And not make a fool of himself. Hopefully.

“Believe it when I see it,” Emma remarked.

Gold peered over Emma’s shoulder to see Neal and Belle dancing in front of him. They were sideways, so Neal spotted him first and waved, causing Belle to look over and lock eyes with him. She smiled at him and looked as radiant as ever. He _had_ to dance with her. There wouldn’t be another opportunity like this for awhile. He couldn’t just randomly ask her to dance in the middle of the office. And, he supposed, there was David and Mary Margaret’s wedding in two months, but did he really want to wait that long?

_Do the brave thing._

No. He didn’t. Not when, for some reason, she was still watching him with those big blue eyes he saw regularly when he slept.

The song ended, and Gold broke away from Emma, leading her back over to where they had been standing, Belle and Neal following.

“Well, Emma,” Belle announced as she and Neal approached, “Here is your lovely boyfriend once again.”

“Why thank you, Belle.” Emma took Neal by the arm and began tugging him back toward the dance floor.  “Neal, let’s go dance some more. Belle, Gold’s all yours.”

And then there were two.

“Well, that was a bit strange,” Belle quipped. 

“Dancing with one of my best friend’s girlfriends? Yeah, a wee bit.”

She laughed and nudged him in the arm, joking, “I don’t know. Emma looked pretty into you.”

Gold chuckled as Belle continued to light up the room with the curve of her lips, and the way she was squinting up at him through smiling eyes made him forget that this was real life, not a fantasy.

“Apparently they don’t think that I can ask you to dance with me without a little encouragement like that first.”

She didn’t stop smiling as the words came tumbling out of his mouth though. She looked downright amused, eyebrow quirked up and giving him an almost challenging look.

“I mean…that’s not…,” he fumbled for words but stopped. Luckily, Belle was quick to respond.

“Oh, that’s what this was about? So they planned that to try and make us jealous of the other so we’d dance together?”

Gold was positive that his face was sporting scarlet blotches all over by now.

“That is more or less what I got out of Emma, yes.”

Belle seemed to consider the sentiment for a moment and then looked away.

“You know, you could have just asked me to dance,” she said finally, peering back up at him

_Yeah. What a novel idea. Except for the part where you saying no scares me to no end, for some reason. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you._

Fortunately, Gold had enough restraint to remain silent.

He must have been looking rather surprised, because after he didn’t say anything in response, Belle noted, “You thought I’d say no, didn’t you?”

“I thought it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for you to decline,” he replied, his tongue finally loosening enough to speak.

Belle’s eyes narrowed.

“Quit using the big vocabulary to try to intimidate me. We’re both word nerds, remember?”

“Word nerds?” he asked with a faux intrigue. This he could do. He could joke and tease and lightly flirt with her all day long. No need for serious conversations. Yet.

“English fanatics. Book worms. Connoisseurs of the intricacies of language.”

“Are you trying to intimidate me now?”

She pursed her lips, not backing down one bit from him.

“Depends, is it working?”

And this was where the flirting always stopped. This was where either he or Belle (usually him) backed off and made a weak joke and the subject was quickly changed. This was where they got close to the edge only to spook, jump backward, and head in the opposite direction.

“You’re asking the one who apparently doesn’t have the balls to ask a pretty girl to dance.”

Oh. Two points for Gold. At least he was finally being honest. He swore the way her eyes were hypnotizing him must have been having some sort of effect.

And still, for some reason, the further they pushed this, she still wasn’t backing down.

“So then ask me,” she whispered.

Oh. _Oh._ Next dance. Yes. She was his. His and no one else’s. His for the rest of the night. His for hopefully longer than that. Next dance. He had her.

He stood there staring and smiling for probably an embarrassing amount of time until he finally decided to deflect with a joke. Later. Next slow dance. They could be serious again then. For now, back to the comfort zone.

“It’d be so much easier to just have one of our friends ask you for me because apparently we’re in high school,” he teased.  

She grinned and then settled beside him, turning to face the dance floor along with him.

“So you helped set this up then?”

He nodded and went into explaining all about the responsibilities of setting up the place, being sure to leave out any mention of dance lessons. The light conversation ebbed and flowed—he was perfectly content just standing beside her in silence. And the less he said, the less of a chance he had of saying something stupid.

And then the quick tempo of the music died into something much slower, much more sensual. He didn’t even bother to pay attention to the opening words of the song—he had no doubt it was indeed so sappy love song that Ruby probably requested.

And then he jumped.

“Care to dance, Agent French?”

Years of training his body to be a well-oiled muscle machine was the only reason that Gold was able to will his outstretched hand to stop shaking.

And she took it.

“I would love to.”

He led them to the floor, placing a gentle hand on her hip and holding their joined hands close to his chest as she wrapped her free arm around his shoulder. His body was suddenly burning and goodness, when did they turn the heat up so much in this place?

He was also quite positive that everyone in the room was probably glancing over at the two of them with a hell of a lot of interest. And he didn’t even want to think about the look on Neal’s face right now.

“Don’t look down,” she heard him whisper, and oh, had he been staring at his shoes the entire time they’d been out here so far?

He jerked his head up but instead of looking at her, made eye contact with the ground behind her shoulder.

“Are all of our friends just staring and giggling in delight?” he whispered. He wasn’t sure he was able to speak above a whisper. His tie felt too tight and his neck was suddenly too thick for his collar and…

“Let them stare.”

He felt a hand on the back of his neck, curling into his hair and he couldn’t help himself—his eyes briefly fluttered closed at the sensation, only to open them again and see Belle’s beautiful blue eyes directly in front of him. So this wasn’t a dream. Okay. Good.

“Are you nervous, Robert?”

His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips and then back up and god, yes, he was nervous, but why hadn’t they done this sooner because she felt absolutely perfect in his arms.

He laughed and again, barely above a whisper, replied, “A little. I’m not big on dancing.”

“Just keep your eyes on me.”

Yes. Yes. He could definitely do that. Especially if she wanted him to.

They danced in silence for a few moments until she remarked, “Thank you for that speech by the way.”

“Well, you’re easy to say nice things about. So not much of a chore for me to do that,” he replied. Yep. Her eyes must have had some sort of hypnotizing effect because he definitely would not have said that under other circumstances.

Belle shifted closer to him, and she huffed out a small laugh, causing the faintest breath to brush over his lips, and yes, he definitely had to try and kiss her before the night was over.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he began, meaning to finish it with a compliment on how she looked tonight, but his mind caught up with his loose tongue.

“Tell me what?”

And then her breath barely ghosted against his lips again. She held way too much power over him. He leaned over and in so that his cheek was nearly resting against hers, mumbling in her ear, “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

He felt her lean closer and giggle into his shoulder before replying, “You’re really laying on the compliments thick tonight, Gold.”

He chuckled and finally mustered up the courage and found his wits again enough to tease her. “Enjoy it while it lasts, dearie. You know I’m not exactly the most open book.”

He barely heard her murmur, “You’re just a mystery to be uncovered.”

He felt her press her cheek against his and burrow into the crook of his neck. They stayed just like that, stepping slowly back and forth over the floor, and he didn’t even think about any of the agents who were definitely staring at the two of them by now because Belle French was damn near nuzzling him, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let go of her after the music stopped.

“For what it’s worth, I know I see you in suits and ties all the time, but you look especially handsome tonight,” she said.

This had to be a dream. It had to be. Because she was calling him attractive and sure, he _had been_ attractive. Years ago. But he was 43 years old now, and there was no way…

“ _Especially_ handsome?” he heard himself mutter back.

She pulled back, and he immediately missed the warmth of her hair and her skin against his.

“Yes, I said _especially_ handsome,” she responded, an inquisitive eyebrow cocked at him. “Are you going to fish for compliments, Gold?”

He chuckled, but then suddenly the spell was broken and the music was ending, and Gold was about to pay the DJ an exorbitant amount of money to just loop that song for the rest of the night and keep Belle right there with him.

She leaned up closer to him and pressed her lips dangerously close to his earlobe and whispered, “Save me another one, okay?”

She pulled back and winked at him, and he just stood stock still in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as she walked away.

Gold didn’t give Neal, David, Clint or anyone the opportunity to comment as he shrugged past some agents and out a side door as quickly as possible. He needed a minute. Or sixty. And he needed them by himself. He walked out the doors of the convention center and into the night. The breeze had picked up, and it was rather chilly, trees sagging to the side against the brunt of the wind as the moon lit up the rippling water of the river across the way. It was fairly late for him—almost 10:30 already, but the street was surprisingly empty for a Saturday evening on the west side of the city, not that he was complaining. 

Gold crossed the street, trotting down a small flight of stairs to head for a sidewalk that ran along the river shore to take a walk.

Once he was positive that he was completely alone, he allowed a huge grin to take over his face as he continued his stroll down the river.

He’d given his speech. He’d danced with Belle. And he hadn’t spectacularly fucked up anything yet. She found him attractive. She wanted to dance with him again. And she’d curled into him like a bloody koala, and damn, Robert Gold was the luckiest man on earth.

The net had been underneath him when he finally jumped, and he hadn’t even needed it. She wanted him—and it excited him and terrified him, and Gold knew that if he didn’t kiss her before the night was over, he was going to hate himself for weeks.

Because that’s what they did. They’d be stuck in a holding pattern until one of them changed course. But she wanted him. She would have pushed him away if she hadn’t.

They were running out of space to circle around each other before they crashed.

Gold continued down the riverbank, turning around after he’d made it a few blocks and wandering his way back to the convention center. A literal change in course back inside the ballroom would be necessary if he was going to get anywhere.

When he arrived back across the street from the convention center, he made no move to climb back up the stairs and back across. Instead, he stood for a few moments longer, collecting himself. He’d be fine. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone…well, who knew if he’d ever felt quite this way about anyone beside Belle, but it’d been long enough since he’d felt anything at all for a woman that was more than sexual attraction. But he could do this. It’d be fine.

“Gold?”

He whirled around, and of course, the subject of his thoughts was standing right behind him, wearing a rather large rain jacket over her dress and looking a little ridiculous and a lot adorable.

“I probably look ridiculous, I know—it’s a little windy and this was the first thing I grabbed on my way out of the house. Ruby and Emma were herding me like an animal.”

His whole body tensed as she continued to walk closer.

“Should have known that’d be you…all dark and brooding out here by yourself.”

Belle smiled at him brightly, and the broken defenses he’d tried re-assembling fell back down again.

He shrugged and answered, “Just a little stuffy in there. I haven’t been to one of these things in years.”

“Yeah, I was looking for my dance partner but couldn’t find you. Regina said you came out here about half an hour ago.”

He checked his watch—sure enough. It was eleven o’ clock. He placed his hands in his pockets and half-turned to look back out at the river, unsure of what he was supposed to do next.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

_Do the brave thing._

_Jump._

_Break the holding pattern._

And he changed course.

He turned completely to the river, Belle coming up to stand beside him.

“Do you remember that cup you chipped in my office months ago?”

He kept face out at the twinkling light reflecting on the water, darting his eyes to the side to see her also staring at the river and smiling.

“Yes, I do. You mentioned it in your speech tonight,” she replied, mumbling, “Much to my dismay,” under her breath. “Why do you mention it?”

“I still have it,” he mumbled, still facing away from her.

“You kept it? My chipped cup?”

Gold smiled thinly, averting his attention to the sidewalk beneath his feet.

“Reminded me of you. Couldn’t bring myself to part with it.”

She didn’t say anything right away, and every second that ticked by without words wound one more knot in Gold’s stomach, until he finally heard her speak.

“Since we’re playing twenty questions apparently, may I ask you something?”

He snuck a glance toward her, and she was staring up at him hopefully. He began wracking his brain, trying to think of what she could possibly want to ask him. Nothing was coming. 

“Of course.”

“Do you ever think about that night?” she whispered. “In Amsterdam?”

She couldn’t possibly mean…

“Well, we were there for a few days, so you’ll have to be more specific,” he teased, turning to her with a nervous smile.

She turned toward him fully, the same nervous smile on her face. He couldn’t help but notice her hands were shaking just a little bit. Oh…

“The one with the…spilled wine. And the bird.”

He turned so they were finally facing each other, finally facing _this,_ and there was no way they could go back to their safe stalemate. They’d either land safely or crash and burn.

Belle’s mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. She was looking up at him with those eyes, and he couldn’t tell if it was because it was dark or because of desire that her pupils were blown wide. And then she stepped a little closer and put it out there.

“I was really hoping you were about to kiss me that night.”

“Well despite my better judgment, I was going to. Till that bird really ruined it.”

Minus another point for Gold. Of course he had to go and ruin the mood by making a smart-ass comment.

But Belle seemed completely undeterred.

“Well…if the opportunity ever came up again…or if you wanted to…” she trailed off, looking away for a beat and nervously shifting her weight back and forth.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to you trying again.”

It snapped any reservations that Gold had left. The woman was pretty much giving him permission to kiss her, so without a second thought, his hands reached up to gently cup her cheeks. He stepped closer until, for the second time that night, he could feel her breath coming in soft puffs against his mouth, and if he just leaned down  a little more—

But Belle had always been the braver of the two, and the next thing he knew, her head had tilted up, and her lips were brushing against his, her hands coming up to wrap around his neck.

Gold’s hands fell to her hips and held on tight, and he was quite positive that this was one of those kisses that included fireworks in the background and dramatic camera angles because _bloody hell,_ this felt like a movie or a dream. She felt like a dream as he kissed her back, slowly, softly—gently pressing his lips against her more insistently, encouraged by the relaxed sigh he heard from her.

He pulled back, because he knew that if he let her keep sucking on his lower lip like she’d just begun to do, he’d never be able to stop.

“Belle…”

Gold searched her eyes, which were flicking back and forth from his own gaze and back to his lips.

Oh, screw it. So what if they never stopped and Neal and Emma found them making out like teenagers on the river bank? Gold was too far gone thinking about what else Belle could do with her mouth and how that witty tongue of hers would feel against his.

So he hauled her back to him and crushed his lips against hers, their teeth knocking a bit. He groaned, but Belle didn’t seem to think they were quite close enough, her hands winding into his hair and nipping on his lip and _oh god,_ he forgot how good that could feel.

His tongue traced along the inside of her upper lip, and Belle wasted no time in opening for him, his tongue swiping against the roof of her mouth and then against her tongue. She tasted like champagne and those really delicious little chocolate truffle hors d'oeuvres they’d been passing around earlier, and Gold made a mental note to stock up on both champagne and chocolate because _he really wouldn’t mind being reminded of this every time he had those._

She moaned into his mouth when he swept his tongue against the roof of her mouth again, and he committed that small piece of information to memory as well.

Her hands were still wound tightly in his hair, pulling a bit when she pressed harder into the kiss, stroking her tongue along his and yep, nothing was ever going to make him leave this spot.

But that would have been much too easy. And they were strangers to easy.

He cursed the jacket she was wearing because without it, she likely wouldn’t have brought her phone outside. And without her phone, they wouldn’t have been interrupted by the sudden blaring of her ringtone.

She pulled away much too quickly and quickly reached for it.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this—I’ve been vibrating for the past five minutes with texts from Ruby.”

Gold’s mind stopped functioning after _I’ve been vibrating,_ and good god he did not need that visual right now when his dress pants were already feeling suspiciously tighter, and Belle was standing in front of him with slightly windswept hair and swollen lips.  

Belle sighed and read one of the texts aloud. “Oh no… _Had a huge fight with Victor. Think it might be over between us._ Shit. I’m so sorry. I really should go check on her.”

Gold nodded fiercely, shrugging it off. _Not a big deal. That wasn’t one of the best kisses I’ve had in a very long time. It’s fine. Go check on Ruby._ “It’s okay. It’s getting a little late anyway. I think I should head home pretty soon anyway.”

She smiled, pocketing her phone, gazing at his lips again and then blushing.

“Okay. Okay, well,” she began, stuttering on every syllable. “I’ll talk to you soon then?”

“Yes. Definitely,” he replied quickly.

She smiled again and bit her lip, reaching for his hand and squeezing before turning to go.

“Good night, Robert.”

“Good night, Belle.”

He remained glued to his spot as she began her ascent up the stairs, sneaking a quick look back at him, and goofy grin crossed his face. His heart was racing in double, hell, maybe triple time, and every nerve ending in his body felt like it was exploding.

He’d done it. He kissed her. And it’d been fucking amazing. Point for Gold?

He looked back out at the river.

_Now what?_

He couldn’t ignore the ill feeling of fear that crept into his system. Surely, she would wake up tomorrow and realize that the entire night had been a mistake, an albeit pleasant mistake. Good things didn’t happen to Robert Gold regularly. And Belle French was much more than a good thing.

So he remained stock still in his spot on the sidewalk, his whole body buzzing with adrenaline.

And there were two responses when adrenaline hit.

Fight or flight.

Gold wasn’t quite sure which was about to win out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...uh...comments? Kudos? Thoughts?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the woobie agents-in-love don't really know how to handle themselves. Also in which the author is really sorry this took forever to post.

**Agents of Storybrooke**

Chapter Thirteen

\-- 

 

Belle lay in her tiny bunk on SHIELD’s private plane, worn out from her quick jaunt to Bahrain with Clint and Natasha.

Almost immediately after the ball three nights ago, she was called in for her first official mission with her entire team. Well. Almost.

Gold had had to go to SHIELD’s classified base called “The Hub.” All she knew was that it was a level 8 clearance thing. And she couldn’t know much more. And that was that. So with Gold on his way there, the other three fourths of Strike Team Delta went off to explore a dealing with a young woman with mind-reading capabilities that Agent Coulson was interested in having join the team.

It was quick work, but the flights were long, and she spent most of the time in the gym by herself, in debriefing, or asleep.

Or doing anything at all to keep her mind off of why Gold hadn’t contacted her. They hadn’t talked at all since the ball, and Belle was trying not to overthink it—trying to chalk it up to being in different (and on one end, classified) parts of the world and doing their jobs. Hell, The Hub probably didn’t even have reception unless it was SHIELD-related business, or they probably tracked texts or calls or something like that. And Belle wasn’t about to risk having an awkward “so now what?” conversation with Gold on the phone, paranoid the whole time that any one of SHIELD’s higher-ups could be listening in.

Or maybe he was abiding by that mythical rule of waiting three days to call? No. Surely he couldn’t be that nervous about it. It was just a kiss.

Just a really fabulous, ‘all Belle could think about if she allowed her mind to stray’, kiss.

She hadn’t told anyone about it, not yet. She had wanted to be angry at Ruby when she made her way back inside the ballroom, lips tingling as she replayed the moment over and over again until she caught sight of her friend—in the atrium of the convention center, being held by Mary Margaret. Ruby had obviously been crying—and she choked through a quick summary of how Whale had told her that he really wasn’t ready to commit to a relationship and had broken things off with her.

_Well, I just kissed my supervising officer and partner that you’ve been teasing me about, so look at the bright side!_

No, it really hadn’t been the time to tell anyone. So instead, Emma and Belle took a drunk and sorrowful Ruby home, and Belle sat on her bed staring at her phone for hours, debating whether or not to call him or text him.

Good god, when had SHIELD turned into high school prom?

Belle knew that when it came to interpersonal relationships, she was easily the braver of the two. She would have to initiate to break the holding pattern—but surprisingly, Gold hadn’t shied away the entire night. Which was good. But she couldn’t help but worry that his nasty habit of self-preservation would kick in once again now that the fairytale night was over.

She knew that he had a bad track record—at least from talk. Tales of Agent Gold’s more carefree  younger years still circulated every now and then along with the other stories of his daring heroics. The only SHIELD agent she could think of who was more widely discussed (behind their backs, of course) was Agent Melinda May. And like May, both kept their pasts very close to their vests.

Belle didn’t know why Gold was the way he was—what had caused the descent from enthusiastic, agreeable agent, to a young man who sought comfort from pain with a few meaningless flings with women and a lot of scotch, to the rough-around-the-edges, cold and calculated agent (slash teddy bear around Belle).

She figured it had a lot to do with Cora and Neal. But Belle wanted to eventually hear it from Gold himself.

She rolled around on the small bed, shutting the plane window letting in the bright pastel colors of the sunrise. Her head hit the pillow, and she tried to fall asleep once again, pelted with thoughts of the ball—his slightly shaky hand (he tried so hard to hide it) holding hers as they went out the dance floor, the dark eyes boring into her with an intensity that apparently Gold didn’t realize was insanely attractive, and his soft lips against hers. For someone who claimed to be so out of practice, the man was good with his mouth.

The kiss was good. He was good. What they had was… good.

Belle just hoped that he saw it the same way.

* * *

 

Gold sat primly in his office on Monday morning, playing with one of the smart boards on his walls and scanning through files—mostly perusing field reports from Clint, Natasha, and Belle’s trip to Bahrain. After a quick 48 hour trip to The Hub, he’d arrived back at the Triskelion early in the morning, running on very little sleep.

Very little sleep made it very difficult to focus. And when he couldn’t focus, he found himself thinking about Belle.

Belle. The ball. The kiss. Right.

He wanted her—he wanted her so badly, and she wanted him right back, but…

Being a SHIELD agent wasn’t conducive to starting a relationship. Sure, several of them had seemed to work it out. But several of them hadn’t had a significant other like Cora.

Of course.

He’d finally manned up, and they’d kissed, and it’d been wonderful…

And he was going to run in the opposite direction once again.

He’d been so stuck in his _no one could ever love me_ mentality for so long, he’d just grown accustomed to it. And Belle really didn’t deserve to deal with that. They’d only kissed. And he was crazy about her—but she didn’t need to deal with his mood swings. Twenty years to mull over Cora and failed relationships since had given him some peace, but Gold couldn’t help but doubt himself.

Maybe he could tell her they needed to take this very slowly.

Slowly? They’d been flirting for six months. Surely Belle and everyone around them had had enough of the slow burn between them.

Maybe he could say he just needed a little bit of time? Be honest and say he was nervous as hell around her?

No. He probably wasn’t brave enough for that.

Or maybe she didn’t even want to be with him. Maybe she had just been curious, and now that her itch had been scratched, she didn’t actually want to date him.

Gold tried to brace himself for that.

He scanned through the files some more, noting that Belle had done marvelously on this mission. No surprise. See, she didn’t really need him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock on the semi-open door, and he turned to see Belle— _of course_ —smiling very shyly at him.

“Belle.”

So good with greetings, he was.

“Hey,” she replied, slowly walking into the room as Gold closed the tabs on his board and rounded his desk.

“I was just looking over the field reports to Bahrain. Went well, I see.”

She nodded happily, and he honestly had no idea how this conversation was about to go. Did he ask her out?

“Yes, it was good. And how was your little vacation to The Hub?”

He smirked.

“Classified, dear.”

She smiled even brighter at the pet name. Good. This was going well so far.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been available to talk at all—“ he blurted.

But Belle interrupted before he could finish. “Oh no. Completely fine. We were both a little, well, preoccupied.”

She carefully stepped toward him, swaying back and forth on her feet nervously before she finally mumbled, “Look, about the other night…”

Nope. Nope. Abort mission.

“We can just forget it ever happened,” he interrupted. “If that’s what you want. If it was… just a one time thing, that’s fine.”

He regretted the knee-jerk words as soon as they came out, because now Belle was staring at him with a look of utter confusion on her face.

“I’m sorry, what are you saying?”

Gold, could not, for the life of him, figure out or remember how he had gotten women to go out with him when he was younger. Twenty years of very little attention to romance had not boded well for him.

“No, I—I’m sorry. I just…”

He trailed off, not really knowing how the sentence he’d started was going to finish.

“I’m not very good at this at all, Belle.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it was a start. Belle just cocked her head to the side and smiled weakly, walking a little closer to him and placing a warm hand in his.

“I’m not asking you to be good at anything. I just want to know if you want to be with me or if that kiss meant anything to you.”

Honesty. He just had to be honest.

“I do. I really do, Belle. But I’m not good at dating. I haven’t been with a woman in years, and for the longest time I’ve just wondered…”

Again, he trailed off, this time not because he didn’t know how he was going to finish the sentence, but because he wasn’t sure he should say it.

“Wondered what?” Belle finally asked when he’d fallen silent for several moments.

He sighed and squeezed the hand holding his. “Wondered maybe if in this line of work, it’s just not good to find those people you really care about it because it may just put them in danger. Or put all of SHIELD in danger like with—“

“Like with Cora.”

Gold nodded and replied, “Among other things, yes.”

She let go of his hand with a squeeze in response and searched his eyes for a moment, finally smiling weakly again and saying, “I understand.”

Her countenance betrayed her words—Belle looked rather upset.

“You do?”

She shrugged and stepped back a bit more in defense.

“Well, yes. You didn’t think I would?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I’m terrible at this.”

She still looked upset. Gold wasn’t quite sure what exactly had set her off, but at some point he’d said the wrong thing. Like implicitly saying he wasn’t sure he could take the risk of being with her. Not only that, but…

“I just think you deserve better than me,” he mumbled, just barely loud enough for her to hear.

Her face fell even further when he said that, and finally Gold had to close his eyes in silent apology. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But it was the truth—it was how he felt.

“Well, you don’t get to decide what I do or how I feel. I do.”

He cracked his eyes open when she didn’t say any more to see Belle standing directly in front of him, dangerously close to him, her flats putting her eye level with his lips, which he noticed her gazing at.

“You foolish man…” she mumbled.

Belle didn’t give him a chance to make a rebuttal, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and yanking him down to her, meeting him in the middle and leaning up to press her lips against his.

Surely, this time it couldn’t be real.

He kissed her back for a moment, catching her bottom lip between his before pulling back slightly, her breath mingling with his, and it was so tempting to lean back in and…

“Belle…”

But she just nodded into the small space between them, pushing off on his chest and stepping back.

“I know,” she replied. “We’re at work. Not exactly an appropriate setting.”

No, not exactly. But they had to talk. And if he didn’t tell her that now and make himself share those intentions to talk, he never would.

This whole ‘doing the brave thing’ business wasn’t just a one time deal, and Gold couldn’t help but wonder how she didn’t get exhausted from it.

“But we should talk about this,” he said finally. “About us.”

And there it was, thank God. That hope in her eyes again. And it calmed him, even for just a moment.

“Yes. Later,” she replied, nodding.

“Okay. Later.”

And with a small smile, she turned to go, leaving Gold alone once again.

It was put up or shut up.

* * *

 

_To the right, to the left  
We will fight to the death…_

Belle let the music blare into her eardrums from the small buds connected to her phone, hacking and chopping and hitting the training dummy with every ounce of energy in her. This game of “He loves me, he loves me not” with Gold was draining her. What if once they talked, it all washed out?

She was playing out every possible scenario in her mind as she continued to hit the dummy to the beat of the music, Clint stationed on the other side of the room at the salmon ladder. She could faintly hear the thrums of his own music and lost focus when she heard Clint singing along to whatever was playing.

“I be up in the gym just workin’ on my fitness, Belle’s my witness.”

Belle landed another hit on the dummy as she realized that he was indeed singing all the words to “Fergalicious” very loudly behind her and apparently looking for her to join in on it.

She kept punching.

“Belle? Earth to Belle?” Clint called out, voice getting louder as he came closer.

Another punch. Then a kick.

“Belle!”

He caught her by the shoulder as she wound up once again, stopping her dead in her tracks.

“Huh? Oh. I’m so sorry. What’s up?”

The way Clint was looking at her told her that she was busted.

“You’re just taking out a lot of anger on that training dummy.”

She rolled the cord of her earbuds around her phone, staring down at the device the entire time.

Clint grabbed her by the shoulder again.

“Is everything okay?”

She finally looked up at him and shrugged, replying, “I’m good. I’m good.”

“Okay. Well… I’m here to talk to. And sing with.”

Belle laughed and then sighed, walking over to the other side of the room to sit on a bench. She trusted Clint. Thinking about Gold was eating her alive.

“It’s Gold,” she blurted out.

Clint seemed surprised that she’d cracked that easily, but he quickly gave her a smile, sat beside her and asked, “What’s going on?”

“We kissed. And I’m pretty sure he’s into me, and I know that I like him. He’s just so…”

God, she was rambling. But before she could go on and try to name exactly what Gold was, Clint held up a hand and answered, “Say no more. You guy’s not exactly an open book, is he?”

She groaned.

“Not exactly, no.”

Belle shook her head. She couldn’t help but doubt herself—that it was stupid to be asking Clint or anyone for that matter for advice on the subject. But Clint continued to listen attentively as she continued.

“I mean, he said that we’d talk. I just don’t know when or where or what exactly he wants to talk about. If he’s going to end it before it begins or tell me what’s holding him back.”

Belle felt a sense of uneasiness wash over her as she finished—it was weird, getting it out in the open.

“I’m so sorry for dumping this all on you, Clint,” she added.

Clint just put his arm around her—and that’s what she needed. Maybe not even any advice. She just needed Clint’s big brother support right now.

“Belle, no, not at all. I’m not at all bothered by trying to help you two get your heads out of your asses.”

Belle’s eyebrow quirked up, and she feigned a surprised and hurt look.

“Well, more so Gold than you,” Clint added.

She laughed and replied, “Well, thank you. I appreciate the listening ear.”

Clint rose from the bench, offering a hand and pulling Belle up with him, continuing as they both gathered their things and headed for the door.

“Honestly, my advice is to give him a bit. When Gold commits to something, he commits to it. He will talk. And honestly? You’ve brought him back down to earth a lot more in six months than anyone has seen him be in quite a long time, Belle. He cares about you a lot. You’re good for him.”

 _You're good for him._ She smiled at that. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just give him a couple days. He won’t keep you waiting. I honestly think he’s worried someone else will snatch you up if he doesn’t ask you out soon.”

Again, Belle couldn't help but smile. 

“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about that.”

Clint squeezed her shoulder and turned to her before they parted ways.

“I figured as much. Well, I’m going to head home. You let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do. Thank you again,” Belle replied.

Clint turned and walked in the opposite direction as Belle went to go toward her car, trying not to obsess. 

It'd be fine.

They'd be fine. 

They'd talk. 

Soon, hopefully. Very soon. 


End file.
